ered the word and sacraments to a starving few, but secretly,
for fear of the Danes; and from him he learned the truth and was
baptized.

Then, feeling himself unhappy in this distracted land--separated from
the English by blood, from the Danes by religion--he determined to go
on pilgrimage.

Once in the Holy Land, he had to undergo much contumely from the pagan
Saracens, who, to the disgrace of Christendom, defile the Holy City by
their presence, and maltreat the blessed pilgrims; but he had learned
to glory in humiliation. At last he retired to the woods on the
sources of the Jordan, weary of earth, and there he joined an aged
hermit, with whom he lived for two years, and when the hermit died he
took his place, and dwelt as an ascetic, ministering, however, to the
necessities of pilgrims who journeyed that way to the Holy Land.

From some of these pilgrims he learned, at length, that English and
Danes were united in peace, and a great desire of revisiting England
and searching out his son seized upon him. On the road he heard that
Edmund was dead and Canute reigned alone, and so he came hither at
once, and has arrived, God so willing it, in time to see his son
married to the heiress of Aescendune.

We have provided him lodgings in the priory. The new hall is not to be
dwelt in till the night when the happy pair enter it and make it their
home.

Alfgar's cup of joy is full.

Monday after the Whitsun Octave.--

At last it is over. The weary waiting of ten years is ended. Alfgar
and Ethelgiva are man and wife.

Canute gave away the bride in person. Elfwyn, Hilda, Herstan, Bertha,
and Hermann, with his sisters--indeed all the kindred of the bride
were there. Of the kindred of the bridegroom but one, so far as we
know, is living--his father Anlaf. It has been a warlike race, and
nearly all the members of the family have found a warrior's grave.

I performed the ceremony, assisted by all the brethren in the choral
portions of the mass and the order of the marriage service. Ethelgiva
was pale and composed although she shed a few natural tears, but wiped
them soon. Alfgar was simple and unaffected, as he always is. All he
does is so naturally done. Like Nathaniel, he is a man without guile.

The church was crowded. All the retainers and all the neighbours were
present, and when the bride and bridegroom left the sacred building,
they saluted them with cheers which made the welkin ring.

Then the whole party adjou