hungry, too, and sorrowful and weary. He knew not where he was, but he
failed not to return thanks to that gracious God who had preserved him
from the perils of the raging seas to which he had been so awfully
exposed, and whose merciful providence, he doubted not, would guide and
sustain him in the strange land whither he had been conducted.

Thus meekly, thus nobly, did the young page support himself under this
fresh trial. But when the remembrance of the unfortunate Atheling, his
royal master, came over him, his heart melted within him; he bowed his
face on his knees as he sat all lonely on the sea beach, and he wept
aloud, exclaiming--

"Oh, Edwin! royal Edwin! hadst thou patiently trusted in the mercy of
God thou slightest, notwithstanding thy late adversity, have lived to
wear the crown of thy father Edward." Overpowered by his emotions, he
again sank upon the ground.

"Is it of Edwin of England that thou speakest, young Saxon?" asked a
soft voice in the sweet familiar language of his own native land.

He raised his head and found that he was surrounded by a party of
ladies, one of whom questioned him with an air of eager interest
respecting the expressions he had used touching the unfortunate Prince
Edwin.

Now this lady was no other than Ogina, Queen of France, the sister of
Prince Edwin. Being on a visit at the house of a great lord on the
coast of Picardy, she had come down to the beach that morning, with her
ladies of honor, to bathe: a custom among ladies, even of the highest
rank, in those days. Hearing that a Saxon bark had been driven on