"Yes; I entertained him at the buttery as you requested."
"Well, he came with a proposal from Canute that we should join in building and endowing a church at Assingdun, where a priest may ever say mass for the souls of our dead, whether English or Dane. Of course I have accepted the offer, but Canute added another and more mysterious message."
"And what was that?"
"'Beware,' he said, 'of Edric; his apparent desire of reconciliation cannot be trusted;' and he added that Edric was like a certain person who wanted to become a monk when he was sick."
"I fear he speaks the truth."
"But I cannot act upon his advice; it is too late now. I have striven to do what I thought, and the bishop said, in his Master's name, was my duty--well, I have my reward in the approbation of my conscience. Goodnight, Alfgar, goodnight; I shall sleep soundly tonight; I hope some day I may lay me down for my last long sleep as peacefully."
Alfgar followed his example, and, commending himself to God, slept.
About half-an-hour after midnight Alfgar awoke with a strange impression upon his mind that some one was in the room. It was very dark and stormy, and the wind, finding its way through crevices in the ill-built house, would account for many noises, but there was something stirring which was not the wind, and the impression was strong on his waking senses that between him and the window, which was opposite his bed, a figure had passed.
Not fully trusting impressions produced at such a moment, yet with a heavy vague sense of evil weighing him down like a nightmare, Alfgar lay and listened.
At length he heard a sound which might have been produced by falling rain percolating through the roof, drop, drop upon the floor, but it was strange, for there was no sound of rain outside at that moment.