With cries of fury the Danes set upon him. Wulfhere received the onslaught with a grim smile, and lunging at the nearest one, chanted on:
“Fast flee the Norseman before him.
Stark fall they upon their bucklers!
Under the clash of the steel of Alfred.
Alfred, the great one! The wise one!
Maker of ships and of—”
He fell, pierced through and through by their swords.
“Grandfather!” shrieked Egwina, flinging herself down beside him. “Grandfather, speak to me!”
And Wulfhere opening his eyes, smiled, and chanted in a loud voice: “Maker of ships and of laws!” and expired.
With a cry of anguish the girl fell unconscious on the body.
[CHAPTER VI—THE WOLVES’ CONCERT]
When Egwina recovered consciousness, two priests were bending over her. The Danes were gone, and only the pitying faces of the presbyters were in sight. Half dazed, she stared at them stupidly, and then, as her eyes fell upon the body of Wulfhere, the remembrance of what had happened returned with full force.
“Granther! Oh, granther!” she sobbed. One of the priests leaned over her, and lifted her up gently.
“Daughter, be comforted. He is at rest. No longer is he beset by Dane or foe of any kind. Calm thy grief, and be with us while we give him Christian burial. Our time is short, and we know not how soon the pagans will return. That thou wert left alive is a mercy of God.”