He then guided the others towards the entrance to the ruins, a proceeding made all the easier by the light of the torch.
Ceolwulf had not yet told Wulfstan of the discovery he had made, fearing the boy, in the wild delight of the surprise, should do some foolish thing, and break the silence so necessary to their movements. He now, however, took him aside, and, telling him he had something of very great importance to confide, impressed upon him at the same time the necessity of absolute quiet. When he saw that the boy was quite ready to give his submission to what should be required of him, he told the joyful news.
Wulfstan for a moment was almost beside himself with joy, but a look from Ceolwulf restrained him, and he managed to master his transports.
"Oh, Ceolwulf, where is he?" whispered the boy. "Can't I see him? is he very ill?"
"Thou shalt see him, Wulf; but he is very ill, and thou must not trouble him with questions."
"Ceolwulf, hast thou brought my boy?" called the voice of Ælfhere.
At the sound of his father's voice Wulfstan started away from Ceolwulf, and in a moment was at the side of the couch. Pressing his father's feeble, hot hands, he whispered, "Father, father, I am so glad! I never thought I should see thee again. Oh, poor father, how thou must have suffered! Ah! that nithing Arwald, he shall pay for this."
"That's right, my own Wulf, there spake the blood of the free Jute. I shall die now happier, knowing that I leave behind me one who will one day grow up a worthy upholder of the honour of Cerdic," said Ælfhere, fondly caressing his son's curly head.
A deep sigh close by startled Wulfstan.
"Why, father, who is here? didst thou hear that sigh?"