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"Well, Anlaf, and when is your son going to give up his Christianity?" "You are in a great hurry, Sidroc." "Nay, all the camp inquires." "They must wait." "How long?" "I cannot tell," said Anlaf, shifting uneasily about; "he is my only son, the heir of a long line of warrior princes." "To whom his life is a disgrace." "Not altogether; he is brave." "Would be, you mean, were he not a Christian."
"Yes, but mounted upon the best horses, and the first warriors of our family; we may take some plunder, and send a few Englishmen to Niffelheim, before we get back; Anlaf would not let us stay to touch anything as we came." "No; all his desire was to get to this Aescendune."
The ramparts whereon he was standing were of Roman workmanship, built so solidly that they had resisted every attack of man or of time; while down below lay the ruins of a magnificent villa, once occupied by the Roman governor of the island. Anlaf appeared and stood beside his son. "Alfgar," he said, "the day after tomorrow is the day of St. Brice."
At last, after many years full of adventures and travel, Guy reached England once more. He was now an old man. His beard was long, his hair had grown white, and in the weather-beaten pilgrim none could recognize the gallant knight and earl, Guy of Warwick. When Guy landed in England he found the whole country in sore dread. For Anlaf, King of Denmark, had invaded England with a great army.
Now we must rest, to rise early, and await the sheriff's summons." It was silent, deep night; the whole house was buried in slumber, when Alfgar dreamed a strange dream. He thought he stood amidst the ruins of his home, the home of his father Anlaf, and that he heard steps approaching from the forest.
Now, all the former charters of Aescendune were destroyed in the old hall, and the king had caused a new one to be drawn up, supplying all the defects caused by the loss of the earlier documents; conferring and securing, by royal charter, all the lands of Aescendune, and those formerly appertaining to Anlaf, upon Alfgar, and his successors for ever, not, as he said, as a deed of gift, but as a charter securing and defining their rights and liberties, for him and his successors, to all future generations; and adding all the waste land of the adjacent forest, formerly holden of the crown, to their domains, with right of all temporal jurisdiction, and with the title of Earl, which title is common in the northern and more Danish districts, more so than ealdorman, which obtains in the south.
Nor Anlaf the Dane With wreck of his troops, Could vaunt of the war Of the clashing of spears. Or the crossing of swords, with the offspring of Edward. The Northmen departed In their mailed barks, Sorrowing much; while the two brothers, The King and the Etheling, To Wessex returned, Leaving behind The corpses of foes To the beak of the raven, The eagle and kite, And the wolf of the wood.
Sidroc seemed annoyed, and led the young prince away, while Anlaf seized the opportunity to whisper to his son: "My son, I can do no more for thee; I see thou wilt persist in thine obstinacy. I release thee from thy promise given to me; escape if thou canst, or die in the attempt; but bring not my grey hairs to contempt on the morrow."
So they lay in cover until the last straggler had disappeared in the direction of Aescendune, and then continued their course, with many a jest at the expense of the English. Anlaf watched his son; he knew what his feelings were, and his thoughts were bitter as he felt that, could Alfgar have been consulted, he would be in that English band.
The fire grew brighter and brighter as we proceeded, and the shouts louder and louder. We knew that Anlaf had a party of his countrymen, all of them obnoxious to the English, and could easily understand that they had collected themselves together for their own destruction.
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