"You are heartily welcome, dear king and son," she said. "Pray dismount
and enter."
"Not so, dear madam," he replied. "My company will miss me, and fear I
have met with some harm. I pray you give me a cup of wine, that I may
drink in the saddle to you and my little brother. I would stay longer,
but may not linger."
Elfrida returned for the wine, and as she did so whispered a few words
to an armed man in the castle hall, one of her attendants whom she could
trust. As she went on, this man slipped out in the gathering gloom and
placed himself close behind the king's horse.
In a minute more Elfrida reappeared, wine-cup in hand. The king took the
cup and raised it to his lips, looking down with smiling face on his
step-mother and her son, who smiled their love-greeting back to him. At
this instant the lurking villain in the rear sprang up and buried his
fatal knife in the king's back.
Filled with pain and horror, Edward involuntarily dropped the cup and
spurred his horse. The startled animal sprang forward, Edward clinging
to his saddle for a few minutes, but soon, faint with loss of blood,
falling to the earth, while one of his feet remained fast in the
stirrup.
The frightened horse rushed onward, dragging him over the rough ground
until death put an end to his misery.
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