from it, anxious that no one should suspect the courage of his favourite.

Once or twice Elfric seemed to make great efforts to overcome this
feeling of depression, and partially succeeded in veiling it from all
but the observant young king.

At last the feast was over.

"My friends," said the king, "we must be stirring early in the morning,
so we will now disperse for the night."

They drank a parting cup, then separated, while the king took Elfric's
arm and led him aside.

"Elfric," said he, "did I not know my friend and most faithful follower,
I should suspect that he feared the morrow's conflict."

"I cannot help it," said Elfric; "perhaps I do fear it, yet, had I but
my father's forgiveness, could I but see him once more, I could laugh at
the danger. It is not pain or death I fear, but I long to be where you
have been, I would I had gone with you now."

"So do I."

"And now I have my forebodings that I shall never hear my father's
forgiveness; and, Edwy, if I die without it, I believe my spirit cannot
rest; I shall haunt the spot till the day of doom."

"This is all moonshine, Elfric. You have not been such a bad fellow
after all; if you go wrong, what will happen to the greater part of