They were most gladly received, for now the English forces were equal in number to their adversaries, and every man felt the hope of victory strong within him.

At length Edmund bade messengers go through the camp, and cause every man to retire to rest, for they must all be stirring by dawn on the morrow.

He himself, with Alfgar, went through the host and then inspected the watch.  When he came to the outpost nearest the foe he found Hermann on duty as officer of the watch, and spoke earnestly to him and his men.

“Be on your guard,” he said, “as men who know that the welfare of England depends upon them; if you see the least movement on the part of the crafty Canute, rouse the camp at once; they are not unlikely to attack us by night if they can surprise us, not otherwise.”

Alfgar was standing on a low mound contemplating the opposite camp, that of his own countrymen, attentively.

“Well, Alfgar, my son, do you see aught?” said Edmund approaching him.

“I fancied I saw some figures seek the hollow where the ditch passes from us to them.”

“We will wait and see whether aught comes of it,” said the king; “how do you like our prospects?”

“Well, my lord, I would sooner be with you at this moment than in any other place in England.”

“Even than in Aescendune?”

“Yes; just now.”

“Alfgar, do you think your father yet lives?” said Edmund, as he again gazed upon the Danish camp.

“I think not; I fear he is numbered amongst the dead; I have over and over again inquired of Danish prisoners whether they knew aught of him; they all said he had not been known in their ranks for years.”

“The chances of a warrior’s life are so many that he may not improbably be gone, but remember you found another father at Carisbrooke.”

“I shall never forget that, my lord.”

Here Hermann interrupted them.

“My lord, would you look closely at that little clump of furze upon the banks of the brook?”

“By St. Edmund, there they are! now to catch Danish wolves in a steel trap; creep back within the mound.”

The whole guard was speedily aroused.

“Shall we alarm the camp?” said Hermann.

“Not for the world, they want all the sleep they can get; this will only be a reconnoitring party; did they find us asleep they would of course cut our throats, and then bring their brethren to attack the camp.  As it is, I think we shall cut theirs instead.”

“They have disappeared.”

“Only to appear with more effect; they will be creeping like snakes coming to be scotched; they won’t find a man like Edric at the head of the English army now—­one who always chose the sleepiest and deafest men for sentinels.  Ah, well! he is openly with the enemy now; I only hope he will come within swing of my battle-axe tomorrow.

“Ah!  There they are.”