"Ethelbert, my king," said Sighard gently.
The eyes of the king opened, and he roused.
"Was that your voice, my thane," he asked, "or was it the voice of my dream?"
"I called you, lord, for the horns are sounding."
"Thanks; but I would I had dreamed more! I do not know if I should have learned what it all meant had I slept on."
"What was it, my son?" said Selred.
The king was silent for a little, musing.
"It was a good dream, I think," he said. "I will tell you, and you shall judge. You mind the little wooden church which stands here in Fernlea town? Well, in my dream I stood outside that, and it seemed small and mean for the house of God, so that I would that it were built afresh. Then it seemed to me that an angel came to me, bearing a wondrous vessel full of blood, and on the little church he sprinkled it; and straightway it began to grow and widen wondrously, and its walls became of stone instead of timber and wattle, and presently it stood before me as a mighty church, great as any of those of which Carl's paladin here tells me.
"Then I heard from within the sound of wonderful music and the singing of many people; and I went near to listen, for the like of that was never yet heard in our land. And when I was even at the door, from out the church came in many voices my own name, as if it were being mingled with praises--and so you woke me."
"It is a good dream," said Sighard bluntly. "It came from the wondering why Offa let so mean a church stand, and from the horns, and from my speaking your name. Strange how things like that will weave themselves into the mind of a sleeping man to make a wonder."