he thought of Elfric from his mind; he slept, but
again in wild dreams his brother seemed to appear; once he seemed to
oppose Elfric's passage over a plank which crossed a roaring torrent;
then he seemed as if he were falling, falling, amidst rushing waters,
when he awoke.

"I can sleep no longer. I will look out at the night," he said.

A faint moon had arisen, and lent an uncertain light to the outlines of
hill, crag, and moorland, while it gilded the cornice above, where the
wind seemed to linger and moan over departed greatness. The Druidical
worship of olden days, the deluded worshippers now turned into dust, and
the cruel rites of their bloodstained worship, older even than those of
the ruined temple, rose before his imagination, until fancy seemed to
people the silent wastes before him with those who had once crowded
round that circle of misshapen stones which stood out vividly on the
verge of the plain.

He felt that nameless fear which such thoughts excite so strongly, that
he sought the company of the sentinel whom they had posted to guard
their slumbers, and found not one but two at the post.

"Oswy and Anlac! both watching?"

"It was too lonesome for one," said Oswy.

"Have you seen or heard aught amiss?"

"Yes. About an hour ago, there were cries such as men make when they die
in torture, smothered by other sounds like the beating of drums, blowing
of horns, and I know not what."

"You were surely dreaming?"

"No; it came from yonder circle of stones, and a light like that of a
great fire seemed to shine around."

Alfred made no reply; but he remembered that they had talked of the
Druidical rites the night before, and thought that the idea had taken
such hold upon the minds of his followers as to suggest the sounds to
their fancy. Still he watched with them till the first red streak of day
appeared in the east.

CHAPTER X. ELFRIC AND ALFRED.

Early in the morning our travellers arose and took their way through an
open country which abounded with British and Roman remains; no fewer
than three entrenched camps, once fortifying the frontier of the Dobuni,
lying within sight or hard by the road, which, skirting the summit of
the watershed between the Thames and the Avon, afforded magnificent views.

About an hour after starting they came upon a singular monument of
Druidical times, consisting of sixty huge stones arranged in a circular
form, with an entrance at the northeast, while a singl