"What is all this?" Harold shouted as he turned to Osgod, the only figure standing, raising his sword as he spoke, for in the dim light he did not recognize him.
"It means, my lord, that there has been an attempt on your life. I am Osgod, Wulf's man. I fear my brave young master is killed!" and he dropped on his knees by Wulf's side. By this time doors were opening all along the corridor, and the king's thanes and other guests, awakened by Wulf's shout and the clashing of swords, were pouring out, armed with the first weapon they could snatch up.
"Bring lights!" Harold shouted. "My life has been attempted, and I fear that the brave Thane of Steyning is killed."
The alarm spread fast, and the palace so lately hushed and silent was now in an uproar, while the bishop with many other ecclesiastics, with servants, retainers, and men-at-arms, mingled with the thanes.
"Keep all back!" Harold cried. "Let none approach these bodies until we have examined them."
Torches were soon brought. Harold seized one, and bent over Wulf's body.
"Is he dead?"
"His heart beats, but feebly, my lord," Osgod replied.
"Where is he hurt?"
"There is a great patch of blood here on his right side just over the hip. I see no other sign of a wound."