any of the peoples who, in later centuries, have formed the nations of modern Europe is unfortunately so obscure that it can only furnish us with a mere general outline of the course of events.

Occasionally, however, the record of a short period is found, like an oasis in a desert, which is full of most interesting details. The welcome narrative abruptly begins, and as suddenly ends, pleasing the reader with anecdotes, speeches, estimates of character, and other precious materials for history. There is a very remarkable example of this in Bede's invaluable work. Nothing can be more tantalising than the extremely meagre character of the accounts that have been preserved of the leaders of the people, the makers of England, as Mr. Green called them, during the Heptarchy, the all–important period when England was made. But there is one striking exception. When the venerable monk of Jarrow reaches the period of Edwin of Northumbria his narrative somehow has fresh life and vigour breathed into it, and the following half–century receives the same welcome treatment. We see real progress being made in the civilisation of the country and the condition of the people, which, though checked, was not put a stop to even by the desolating invasions of Penda and Cadwalla.

One eagerly looks for the causes both of the increased life in Bede's narrative and of this remarkable period of sudden progress. The full details furnished for Edwin's history are so exceptional that the circumstance was discussed by Dr. Giles, the editor of Bohn's edition of Bede. He considers it to be clear that Bede must have had access to highly valuable materials, for his details are too minute in themselves and too accurately defined to have been derived by him from tradition only.

The phenomena of the history of Edwin's reign are, however, far more interesting than any question relating to Bede's materials. We find a man who had passed his life in exile, and under every disadvantage, suddenly developing into a most efficient ruler and giving vigour and direction to every branch of his administration. But this is not all. He is found assuming ensigns of sovereignty, adopting measures and undertaking expeditions of a character not at all in accordance with what could possibly be expected from a sovereign of any state in the English Heptarchy of that period.

There is one natural way of accounting for the various problems connected with Edwin's life–story, and especially with his reign. The presence of a bigoted and very timid Roman monk, like Paulinus, in attendance on his Queen, will in no way explain them. Edwin caused a chronicle of his labours to be written; he assumed ensigns only known at the court of the Emperor; he provided for the convenience of travellers in a way only practised in the East; he equipped a fleet for the subjugation of distant islands; he established order in a way so effectual that no organisation known in the England of the seventh century could have enforced it.

Edwin was a man of great ability, it must be conceded, but this will not account for the introduction of measures so at variance with the ideas and habits of the governments of the Heptarchy at that time. One explanation covers all the ground. It is quite possible that, owing to a very extraordinary combination of circumstances, certain countrymen of Edwin may have had rare opportunities of visiting the distant regions of the then known world, of studying many things in many climes, and that, after years of absence, they may have returned home. Surrounded by such men as his friends and ministers, the history of his reign is made perfectly clear. A hint here and there even enables us to guess who some of these great men were. History, in that age, usually gives us a mere skeleton. Bede, fortunately, in the case of the illustrious Northumbrian Bretwalda and his people, gives us much more, but not nearly enough. Following the venerable historian closely and exactly, it is not an unworthy aspiration to fill up the blanks, and to present these workers in the making of England as living and moving beings. Even we, at this distance of time, may owe them something. All the seeds that they scattered so perseveringly and so earnestly, and with such loving care for their country and its welfare, cannot have fallen among thorns or on rocky ground. It is such considerations which have given rise to this attempt to tell the strange and romantic story of the Paladins of King Edwin the Great.

C. R. M.

CHAPTER I

STILLINGFLEET

The sacred ash tree spread its wide leafy branches over the court of the Stillingas. On one side of this court was the long hall, built of timber, with quaintly–carved joists and gables, on two others were the barns and cattle–sheds, the whole being surrounded by a stiff quickset hedge concealing the view of the open country. This ash was not only sacred from its size and antiquity, and as an emblem of the ash tree of Yggdrasil, but it also had an elf hole through which children could be passed, a peculiarity possessed by no other ash for miles around. Six children were dancing joyously round the tree one bright summer afternoon 1300 years ago, and making the whole place resound with merry laughter. The eldest was twelve years of age, a sturdy, straight–limbed boy named Coelred, the eldest son of Seomel, the warrior chief of the Stillingas. He had blue eyes and a sunburnt little face, with masses of brown hair falling over his shoulders. His brother Porlor, two years his junior, was a bright child with a dreamy, thoughtful look in his eyes when at rest, and a strong little frame fit for sustained work even at that early age. Their companion, Hereric, numbering the same years as Porlor, was an inch taller, and his hair was golden and glistened as the sun's rays rested on it. He was a young prince, son of the warrior Elfric, the brother of Ella the king of Deira. His little brother Osric was only three years of age. The four boys had two girls for playfellows—Bergliot, the golden–haired princess, aged six years, and Braga, or Bragaswith, the little sister of Coelred and Porlor. Ella, the king, lived at Aldby with his queen and his daughter, the princess Alca, aged sixteen, and the new–born prince Edwin, the hope of Deira. Elfric was established at the Aldwark, the remains of the imperial palace within the walls of Eburacum, or Eoforwic (York), as the English then called it. But he was a widower, and his children were generally at Stillingfleet, under the care of the gentle wife of Seomel, the British lady Volisia. Elfric himself was also a frequent visitor, to consult with Seomel, his friend and companion in arms, over the affairs of the frontier.

DANCING ROUND THE SACRED ASH

On that bright summer afternoon the Lady Volisia sat on a bench by the carved door–post of the hall, her baby–girl Nanna asleep by her side. She was tall and slim, with a slightly aquiline nose and soft brown eyes. She watched the happy group round the ash tree, a