There was a pause of utter stupefaction; then, from all within hearing, a
clamorous outburst: "It is the Gainer's luck again!"--"The messenger
knew what he was saying!"--"No sharpness of wit can comprehend it!"--"It
is the magic of his flattering tongue."--"A hundred tongues had done no
harm if Edmund--" The voices sank into a snarling undertone: "Ay, there
it is!"--"Ethelred's blood!"--"It is no more to be counted on than is
water--" "What could have moved him to it?"

Morcard's throat emitted a sound that might have been a chuckle or
might have been a growl. "I will tell you plainly for why; it is his
dauntlessness. He is going to pit his green wit against Edric's, that
has made two kings as wax between his fingers! And he has begun by
letting the wolf into the fold."

It appeared that the Etheling had recovered from his surprise, for now
he said steadily, "I will not believe it. Until their oaths have been
spoken and their hands have clasped and my own eyes have witnessed it, I
will not believe it of him."

Motioning them from his path, he was starting forward a second time,
when the old cniht laid a hand lightly upon his shoulder.

"Hear me, Lord Sebert! If then,--to weigh all perils like a soldier,--if
then, you do witness it with your own eyes?"

The blue gave out a flash of smitten steel.

Morcard answered as to words: "You will be one against many, lord."

"You cannot mean that the Witan will comply with him!" the Etheling
cried.

"How is it possible that they should do otherwise? The odal-born men
could not prevent it when Ethelred took Alfric back. And to-night,
few but thanes have resorted thither--men whom the Redeless took from
ploughing his fields to gild with nobility. Is it likely that they will
oppose the hand that can strip off their gilding?"

It appeared that the young man could find no answer to that, for he made
none. "At least once, my lord, Ethelred's wilfulness has shown in
his son, when he set aside the King's command to take possession of
Sigeferth's widow and her estates. And I think it was Ethelred's temper
that moved him to spend an energy, much better directed against the
Pagans, in laying waste two of his own shires. Remember what happened
when your father raised himself against Ethelred."

Restive under the restraining hand, the young noble faced him
desperately. "Morcard, in God's name, what would you have me do? I will
not bend to it, nor would you wish me to. Or sooner or