e
herself over to despondency so long as there was anything to be done.
Very quickly she roused herself to action, and despatched messengers to
all those powerful friends who shared her hatred of the great
archbishop, and would be glad of the opportunity now offered of wresting
the rule from his hands. Until now he had triumphed because he had had
the king to support him even in his most arbitrary and tyrannical
measures; now was the time to show a bold front, to proclaim her son as
the right successor, and with herself, assisted by chosen councillors to
direct her boy, the power would be in her hands, and once more, as in
King Edwin's day, the great Dunstan, disgraced and denounced, would be
compelled to fly from the country lest a more dreadful punishment should
befall him. Finally, leaving the two little princes at Corfe Castle, she
travelled to Mercia to be with and animate her powerful friends and
fellow-plotters with her presence.

All their plottings and movements were known to Dunstan, and he was too
quick for them. Whilst they, divided among themselves, were debating and
arranging their plans, he had called together all the leading bishops
and councillors of the late king, and they had agreed that Edward must
be proclaimed as the first-born; and although but a boy of thirteen, the
danger to the country would not be so great as it would to give the
succession to a child of seven years. Accordingly Edward was proclaimed
king and removed from Corfe Castle while the queen was still absent in
Mercia.

For a while it looked as if this bold and prompt act on the part of
Dunstan would have led to civil war; but a great majority of the nobles
gave their adhesion to Edward, and Elfrida's friends soon concluded that
they were not strong enough to set her boy up and try to overthrow
Edward, or to divide England again between two boy kings as in Edwin and
Edgar's early years.

She accordingly returned discomfited to Corfe and to her child, now
always crying for his beloved brother who had been taken from him; and
there was not in all England a more miserable woman than Elfrida the
queen. For after this defeat she could hope no more; her power was gone
past recovery--all that had made her life beautiful and glorious was
gone. Now Corfe was like that other castle at Wherwell, where Earl
Athelwold had kept her like a caged bird for his pleasure when he
visited her; only worse, since she was eight years younger then, her
be