r Cuthbert and Alfred standing by him. They had
allayed the fever, bound up the wound, which was not in itself
dangerous, and he looked more like himself than one could have imagined
possible.

And now they thought they might venture to summon the lady Edith; and
Alfred broke the intelligence to her, for she knew not the events of the
night.

"Mother," he said; "we have news of Elfric, both bad and good, to tell you."

"He lives then," she said; "he lives!"

"Yes, lives, and is near; but he was wounded badly in the battle."

"I must go to him," she said, and arose, forgetting all possible
obstacles in a mother's love.

"He is near at hand, in the priory; you will find him much changed, but
they say he will do well."

She shook like an aspen leaf, and threw her garments around her with
nervous earnestness.

"Come, mother, take my arm."

"O Alfred, may I not come, too?" said little Edgitha.

"Yes, you may come too;" and they left the house.

Elfric heard them approach, and sat up in his bed, Father Cuthbert
supporting him with his arm; while another visitor, Edgar himself, stood
at the head of the bed, but retired to give place to the mother, as if
he felt no stranger could then intrude, when the widow clasped her
prodigal to her loving breast.

CHAPTER XXIV. SOW THE WIND, AND REAP THE WHIRLWIND.

When Alfred rebuilt the city of Winchester, after it had been burned by
the Danes, he erected a royal palace, which became a favourite retreat
of his successors.

Here the unhappy Edwy retired after his defeat, to find consolation in
the company of Elgiva. Indeed he needed it. Northumbria had followed the
example of Mercia, and acknowledged Edgar, and he had no dominions left
north of the Thames, while it was rumoured that worse news might follow.

In an inner chamber of the palace, and remote from intrusion, sat the
king and his chosen advisers. It was early in the year 958, a spring day
when the sun shone brightly and all things spoke of the coming summer--
the songs of the birds, the opening buds, the blossoming orchards.

But peace was banished from those who sat in that council chamber. Edwy
was strangely disturbed, his face was flushed, and he bore evidence of
the most violent agitation.

"It must come to that at last, my king," exclaimed Cynewulf, "or Wessex
will follow the example of Mercia."

"Better lose my crown then and become a subject, with a subject's
liberty to love."

"A subject co