"Redwald, you need not blush; it is true, and your king is proud to own it."
Redwald was not exactly blushing; he had spent the interval before the
banquet in looking eagerly and wistfully all round the house, and now
his countenance had a cold composure, which made it seem as if he had
never known emotion; still he answered fittingly to the king's humour:
"Alack, my lord, such credit is due only to the blessed saints,
especially St. Wilfred, whom you first learned to love at Aescendune, as
you have often told me."
"Yes," said Edwy; "you remember, Ella, how I used to steal away even
from the chase, and visit his chapel at the priory which your worthy
father founded. Truly, I mused upon the saint so much that I marvel he
appeared not to me; I think he did once."
"Indeed!" exclaimed his auditors.
"Yes; I had been musing upon my condition as a poor orphan boy, deprived
of my brave father--he was your friend, Ella!--when methought a
figure in the dress of a very ancient bishop, stood beside me, yet
immaterial as the breeze of evening. 'Thy prayer is heard' said he to
me; 'thou hast brought many gifts to St. Wilfred; he shall send thee
one, even a friend.' It was fulfilled in Elfric."
"Truly, it was marvellous," said Father Cuthbert, who listened with open
mouth. "I doubt not it was our sainted patron."
Alfred said nothing; his recollections of Edwy's days at Aescendune did
not embrace many hours in the chapel of St.
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