"Up and away, my king! The Danes are coming! hosts of them, armed and
horsed! Up and away!"

Hardly had he spoken before the hoof-beats of the advancing foe were
heard. On they came, extending their lines as they rode at headlong
speed, hoping to surround the villa and seize the king before the alarm
could be given.

They were too late. Alfred was quick to hear, to heed, and to act.
Forest bordered the villa; into the forest he dashed, his followers
following in tumultuous haste. The Danes made what haste the
obstructions in their way permitted. In a few minutes they had swept
round the villa, with ringing shouts of triumph. In a few minutes more
they were treading its deserted halls, Guthrum at their head, furious to
find that his hoped-for prey had vanished and left him but the empty
shell of his late home.

"After him!" cried the furious Dane. "He cannot be far. This place is
full of signs of life. He has fled into the forest. After him! A king's
prize for the man who seizes him."

In vain their search, the flying king knew his own woods too well to be
overtaken by the Danes. Yet their far cries filled his ears, and roused
him to thoughts of desperate resistance. He looked around on his handful
of valiant followers.

"Let us face them!" he cried, in hot anger. "We are few, but we fight
for our homes. Let us meet these baying hounds!"