“Yes, why not Alfred?”
“And you saw him alive and well?”
“To be sure, why not? Did you think he was dead.”
Elfric became confused, and muttered some incoherent answer, but he rejoiced in his very heart; he felt as if a mountain were removed from him, and a sweet longing for home, such as he had not felt since a certain Good Friday, sprang up in his mind, so strongly that he would have gone then and there, had circumstances permitted.
Alas, poor boy! his wish was not thus easily to be gratified: he had sinned very deeply—his penance had yet to be accomplished; well has the poet written:
“Facilis descensus Averno . . . . Sed retrograre gradum, superasque evadere ad auras, Hoc opus—hic labor est.” [xxvii]
The midday halt concluded, the troops resumed their march for Alcester, where they hoped to arrive about nightfall, and to surprise Edgar and his few followers. All that afternoon they proceeded through a dense woodland country; and the evening was setting in upon them, when suddenly the scouts in front came galloping back, and gave the startling information that entrenchments were thrown up across their path, and that a large force was evidently entrenched behind.
At first Edwy could scarcely believe the report; but Cynewulf, the experienced commander upon whom, as we have said, the real command of the force devolved, rode forward, and soon returned, having previously ordered a general halt, and that entrenchments should be thrown up for their own protection during the night.
“Ealdorman,” said Edwy, impatiently, “why throw up entrenchments? can we not carry theirs by storm? we are all ready, are we not, for a valiant charge?”
“Nay, my lord, we are but ill prepared,” was the reply, “for such desperate measures. I am not certain they do not outnumber us; even so, we probably excel them in discipline and skill, and have every chance of victory tomorrow, which we should lose by fighting in the dark.”