How long she played she did not know, but after what seemed to her a very long time she heard the winding of a horn drawing near. Presently through the woods came the flickering glow of torches.
With a cry of gladness Egwina called loudly:
“For the love of Heaven, who ever ye be, succor me, I pray you.”
“What have we here?” shouted a voice in reply, and a man ran forward. “Where are ye that called?”
“Here, here!” cried the girl joyfully. “In the tree.”
The wolves, as the music ceased, began howling again, and, as a party of men with dogs dashed among them, attacking them with clubs, the most of the pack took to their heels, while the remaining few ceased their yells and in sullen silence let the ceorls club them to death. As the last one was dispatched, the trembling girl descended from the tree. No sooner had she reached the ground than she fell into a passion of weeping.
“There! there!” said one with gruff kindness. “Thou art safe now. The wolves cannot harm thee.”
But nature had been too severely tried, and Egwina sobbed on. The ceorls, seeing that she could not control herself, wisely left her alone, and presently when her sobs had subsided she looked up.
“’Tis unmannerly, I wot,” she said sweetly, “but I could not keep back the tears. I thank ye all for your kindness. Had ye not come when ye did, I fear that I should not have held out much longer.”
“Fleest thou from the Dane?” asked one.