the camp, for your fair queen's sake, or you are lost."

"Come, my men, we must fly," said Edwy, sullenly; and he led the way
reluctantly to the back of the camp.

The road was partly encumbered with fugitives, but not wholly, as most
of them sought the entrenched camp. Cynewulf accompanied him to the
gate, where he stopped to give one last piece of advice.

"Fly, my lord, for Wessex at once; lose no time; the best route will be
the Foss Way; they will not suspect that you have taken that direction.
Ride day and night; if you delay anywhere you are lost."

"Farewell, faithful and wise counsellor. Odin and Thor send that we may
meet again;" and Edwy with only a dozen followers rode out at full speed.

The Mercians had not yet reached that side of the camp, which was
concealed by woods which were clear of all enemies, and he rode on rapidly.

"What has become of Elfric, my Leofric?" he said to one of his faithful
train.

"I fear me he is dead: I saw him fall in the last struggle."

"Poor Elfric! poor Elfric! then his forebodings have come true; he will
never see his father again."

"It is all fortune and fate, and none can resist his doom, my lord,"
said Leofric.