Haco mused a moment and said:
“Methinks I divine thy purpose; is it not formed on the sudden, Harold?”
“It was the counsel of Edith,” answered Harold, with evident emotion. “And yet, if that counsel prevail, I may lose the power to soften the Church and to call her mine.”
“So thou wouldest sacrifice even Edith for thy country.”
“Since I have sinned, methinks I could,” said the proud man humbly.
The boat shot into a little creek, or rather canal, which then ran inland, beside the black and rotting walls of the fort. The two Earl-born leapt ashore, passed under a Roman arch, entered a court the interior of which was rudely filled up by early Saxon habitations of rough timber work, already, since the time of Canute, falling into decay, (as all things did which came under the care of Edward,) and mounting a stair that ran along the outside of the house, gained a low narrow door, which stood open. In the passage within were one or two of the King’s house-carles who had been assigned to the young Atheling, with liveries of blue and Danish axes, and some four or five German servitors, who had attended his father from the Emperor’s court. One of these last ushered the noble Saxons into a low, forlorn ante-hall; and there, to Harold’s surprise they found Alred the Archbishop of York, and three thegns of high rank, and of lineage ancient and purely Saxon.
Alred approached Harold with a faint smile on his benign face:
“Methinks, and may I think aright!—thou comest hither with the same purpose as myself, and you noble thegns.”
“And that purpose?”
“Is to see and to judge calmly, if, despite his years, we may find in the descendant of the Ironsides such a prince as we may commend to our decaying King as his heir, and to the Witan as a chief fit to defend the land.”