winter in riot and wassail, and waiting for the spring-time budding of
the trees to renew the war with their Saxon foes.

[Illustration: AN ANGLO-SAXON KING.]

Not so with Guthrum. He had sworn revenge on the Saxons. Years before,
his father, a mighty chieftain, Ragnar by name, had fallen in a raid on
England. His sons had vowed to Odin to wash out the memory of his death
in English blood, and Guthrum now determined to take advantage of the
midwinter season for a sudden and victorious march upon his unsuspecting
enemy. If he could seize Alfred in his palace, the war might be brought
to an end, and England won, at a single blow.

If we can take ourselves back in fancy to New-Year's day of 878, and to
an open plain in the vicinity of Gloucester, we shall see there the
planted standard of Guthrum floating in the wind, while from every side
armed horsemen are riding into the surrounding space. They know not why
they come. A hasty summons has been sent them to meet their chieftain
here on this day, armed and mounted, and, loyal to their leader, and
ever ready for war, they ride hastily in, until the Danish champion
finds himself surrounded by a strong force of hardy warriors, eager to
learn the cause of this midwinter summons.

"It is war," said Guthrum to his chiefs. "I have sworn to have England,
and England shall be mine. The Saxons are scattered and at rest, not
dreaming of battle and blood. Now is our time. A hard and sudden blow
will end the war, and the fair isle of England will be the Raven's
spoil."

We may still hear in fancy the wild shouts of approval with which this
stirring declaration was heard. Visions of slaughter, plunder, and rich
domains filled the souls of chiefs and men alike, and their eagerness to
take to the field was such that they could barely wait to hear their
leader's plans.

"Alfred, the Saxon king, must be ours," said Guthrum. "He is the one man
I dread in all the Saxon hosts. They have many hands, but only one head.
Let us seize the head, and the hands are useless. Alfred is at
Chippenham. Thither let us ride at speed."

Their bands were mustered, their arms examined, and food for the
expedition prepared, and then to horse and away! Headlong over the
narrow and forest-bordered roads of that day rode the host of Danes, in
triumphant expectation of victory and spoil.

In his study sat Alfred, on the night of January 6, poring over an
illuminated page; or mayhap he was deep in learned c