"Yes," said Edwy; "you remember, Ella, how I used to steal away even
from the chase, and visit his chapel at the priory which your worthy
father founded. Truly, I mused upon the saint so much that I marvel he
appeared not to me; I think he did once."

"Indeed!" exclaimed his auditors.

"Yes; I had been musing upon my condition as a poor orphan boy, deprived
of my brave father--he was your friend, Ella!--when methought a
figure in the dress of a very ancient bishop, stood beside me, yet
immaterial as the breeze of evening. 'Thy prayer is heard' said he to
me; 'thou hast brought many gifts to St. Wilfred; he shall send thee
one, even a friend.' It was fulfilled in Elfric."

"Truly, it was marvellous," said Father Cuthbert, who listened with open
mouth. "I doubt not it was our sainted patron."

Alfred said nothing; his recollections of Edwy's days at Aescendune did
not embrace many hours in the chapel of St. Wilfred.

The great wonderment of Ella may be conceived: he had always mourned
over Edwy as a headstrong youth, dead to religion, and now he was called
upon to contemplate him in so different a light. The reader may wonder
at his credulity, but if he had listened to the sweet voice of the
beautiful king, had gazed into that innocent-looking face--those eyes
which always seemed to meet the gaze, and never lowered themselves or
betrayed their owner--he would, perhaps, have been deceived too; yet
Edwy was overdoing it, and a look from Redwald warned him of the fact.
He took the other line.