e had orders for aught.
Across the court we went to the priests' lodgings, and thence came
the chaplains to meet their lord, and with him I was taken into the
house.

"I have come to see the king," said the archbishop; "take me to him
straightway."

"He will see none," they said; "it is his word that no man shall
disturb him."

"If he will hear what shall make his heart less heavy, he will see
me," said the archbishop. "Tell him that I have news for him. Or
stay; I will go to him myself."

The priests looked at one another, but they could not stop their
lord; and with a sign to us to follow, he passed across the court
again, up the long hall, and so into the council chamber. At the
door which led to Offa's apartments there was a young thane on
guard, but no others were to be seen. I suppose that never before
had Offa been so ill attended, for the very courtiers feared what
curse should light on the place and all who bided in it.

"Tell your lord that I demand audience with him," said the
archbishop to this thane. "The matter will not wait; it is urgent."

The youth rose and bowed, and passed within the door. In a moment
or two he was back again, throwing the door open for us.

"Yourself and no other, lord," he said.

"I take these two," answered Ealdwulf the archbishop. "I will
answer to the king for their presence."

So we two, Erling and I, followed him into the chamber of the king;
and with my first glance at Offa there fell on me a great pity for
him.

He sat at a great heavy table in a carven chair, leaning his
crossed arms before him on the board, and staring at naught with
hollow, black-ringed eyes, as of sleeplessness and grief. His face
was wan and drawn, so that he seemed ten years or more older than
when last he sat in hall with us; and he was clad in the same
clothes which he wore when he came forth to us on the morning of
terror. None had dared to touch aught in his room; and bent and
soiled among the rushes on the floor lay the little gold crown
which he wore at the last feast, as if he had swept it from the
table out of his sight, and had spurned it from him thereafter in
some fit of passion. Hard by that lay a broken sword, and its hilt
flashed and sparkled with the gems I had noted in the hall. It was
his own.

On the table was neither wine nor food, but there was a great book,
silver covered and golden lettered, and it was open at a place
where a wondrous picture in many hues showed a