“One hath been here,” answered Ethelfleda. “We fed him, and he is gone. Dost thou not remember, dear father, that there was not food enou’ left for all but thou didst bid us bring it to him? He hath partaken of it, blessed thee, and gone.”
“He blessed me?” The king’s eyes grew dim. “’Tis strange! And then my dream!”
“Didst thou dream, my lord and son?” said Eadburga, entering the room. “I, too, have just dreamed. Speak, and let us hear thine, son.”
“I dreamed,” said Alfred, “that St. Cuthbert of Lindisfarne stood beside me. He spake and told me he had been my guest. He said that God had seen my affliction and those of my people which were now about to end. In token whereof Edward will return with the Saxons with a great take of fish.”
“Sayest thou so?” cried Eadburga, much agitated. “Why that is mine own dream. Was any one here at all?”
“There was a beggar,” declared the girls in the same breath. “He blessed the king when he left, and made the sign of the cross over him.”
“That was the reason that I did dream that it was St. Cuthbert,” said Alfred, who nevertheless was much impressed by the dream.
“Thy difficulties are fast nearing an end,” said the aged lady impressively. “I think, son, that this has been sent thee for comfort to thy heart, and cheer to thy drooping spirits.”
“And comfort hath it brought,” said the king heartily.
“I would that Edward would come with the others,” cried Ethelfleda. “I would like to see if he bringeth a great take of fish.”