. The startled animal sprang forward, Edward clinging
to his saddle for a few minutes, but soon, faint with loss of blood,
falling to the earth, while one of his feet remained fast in the
stirrup.

The frightened horse rushed onward, dragging him over the rough ground
until death put an end to his misery. The hunters, seeking the king,
found the track of his blood, and traced him till his body was
discovered, sadly torn and disfigured.

Meanwhile, the child Ethelred cried out so pitifully at the frightful
tragedy which had taken place before his eyes, that his heartless mother
turned her rage against him. She snatched a torch from one of the
attendants and beat him unmercifully for his uncontrollable emotion.

The woman a second time had won her game,--first, by compassing the
murder of her husband; second, by ordering the murder of her step-son.
It is pleasant to say that she profited little by the latter base deed.
The people were incensed by the murder of the king, and Dunstan resolved
that Ethelred should not have the throne. He offered it to Edgitha, the
daughter of Edgar. But that lady wisely preferred to remain in the
convent where she lived in peace: so, in default of any other heir,
Ethelred was put upon the throne,--Ethelred the Unready, as he came
afterwards to be known.

Elfrida at first possessed great influence over her son; but her power
declined as he grew older, and in the end she retired from the court,
built monasteries and performed penances, in hopes of providing a refuge
for her pious soul in heaven, since all men hated her upon the earth.

As regards Edward, his tragical death so aroused the sympathy of the
people that they named him the Martyr, and believed that miracles were
wrought at his tomb. It cannot be said that his murder was in any sense
a martyrdom, but the men of that day did not draw fine lines of
distinction, and Edward the Martyr he remains.

_THE END OF SAXON ENGLAND._

We have two pictures to draw, preliminary scenes to the fatal battle of
Hastings Hill. The first belongs to the morning of September 25, 1066.
At Stamford Bridge, on the Derwent River, lay encamped a stalwart host,
that of Harold Hardrada, king of Norway. With him was Tostig, rebel
brother of King Harold of England, who had brought this army of
strangers into the land. On the river near by lay their ships.

Here Harold found them, a formidable force, drawn up in a circle, the
line marked out by shin