The good woman swelled with pride. Just then one of the Saxons cried: “The sun is setting! Come! let us away, and proclaim that we have found the king.”
Adiva started, and turned to Egwina. “Child,” she whispered, “did not the wicca say that we should know who he was ’ere set of sun? And it is the king! Well-a-day! I knew that he was gentle. But listen!”
“No,” the king was saying, “go not yet, dear friends. There is much that I would say, and if these kind people will bear with us, I would that ye should remain the night. Much discourse would I have with ye.”
“Use my poor hut as thou wilt,” said Denewulf, heartily. “It is thine, my king.”
Alfred smiled at him a smile full of sweetness.
“Then, by thy good pleasure, they stay. Come join us, friend Denewulf, and help us by thy counsel, for thou art ready of wit and wise in the lore of the forest.”
So saying, the king sat down by the fire, and the others sat with him. When Egwina would have withdrawn, he hindered her.
“Stay, little one, at thy accustomed place. Am I not still thy friend?”
Thus adjured, the maiden sat by his side as was her wont, while the king turned to the Saxons.
“Ye have said that the people murmur at the oppression of the Danes,” he said. “Think ye that they would rise against them?”