as we see no hope of any general effort to drive the Danes
off our coasts, 'tis useless for us to lurk here longer.
I propose to-morrow, then, to journey north into Lincolnshire,
to the Abbey of Croyland, where, as you know, my brother
Theodore is the abbot; there we can rest in peace for a time,
and watch the progress of events. If we hear that the people
of these parts are aroused from their lethargy, we will come
back and fight for our home and lands; if not, I will no longer
stay in East Anglia, which I see is destined to fall piecemeal
into the hands of the Danes; but we will journey down to
Somerset, and I will pray King Ethelbert to assign me lands
there, and to take me as his thane."

While they had been thus talking Egbert had been broiling
the eels and wild ducks over the fire. He was a freeman,
and a distant relation of Edmund's father, Eldred, who was
an ealdorman in West Norfolk, his lands lying beyond
Thetford, and upon whom, therefore, the first brunt of the
Danish invasion from Mercia had fallen. He had made a
stout resistance, and assembling his people had given battle
to the invaders. These, however, were too strong and numerous,
and his force having been scattered and dispersed, he
had sought refuge with Egbert and his son in the fen country.
Here he had remained for two months in hopes that some
general effort would be made to drive back the Danes; but
being now convinced that at present the Angles were too
disunited to join in a common effort, he determined to
retire for a while from the scene.

"I suppose, father," Edmund said, "you will leave your