that there was no painful struggle imminent in his case; that death
itself would come unperceived, without torturing forebodings.

It was at this moment that Oswy, who stood by the window, which was
strongly barred, but which he had opened, for the night was oppressively
warm, caught the faint and distant sound of a mighty host advancing
through the forest; at first it was very faint, and he only heard it
through the pauses in the storm of sound which attended Ragnar's
preparations for departure, but it soon became more distinct, and he
turned to Alfred.

"Listen, my lord, they come to our aid; listen, I hear the army of Edgar."

Alfred rushed to the window, the hope of life strong within him; at
first he could hear nothing for the noise below, but at length there was
a lull in the confusion, and then he heard distinctly the sound of the
coming deliverers. Another minute, and he saw the dark lines leaving the
shadow of the forest, and descending the hill in serried array, then
deploying, as if to surround a foe in stealthy silence; he looked around
for the object, and beheld Ragnar's forces all unconscious of their
danger, not having heard the approach in their own hasty preparations
for departure. Another moment of dread suspense, like that with which
the gazer watches the dark thundercloud before the lightning's flash. A
moment of dread silence--during which some orders, given loudly below,
forced themselves upon him:

"Fire the castle, every portion of it; fire the stables, the barns, the
outbuildings; we will leave a pile of blackened ruins for Edgar when he
comes; the halls where the princely Edwy has feasted shall never be his,
or entertain him as guest."