The week has passed monotonously enough. The Etheling is now able to leave his room, but the stormy weather, with its torrents of rain, makes it impossible for him to leave the house. The river has overflowed its banks; all the country around is like a lake. We console him by telling him that all has been done which is possible, both to warn the people and learn the fate of Alfgar. He tries to look contented, but if he knew how little has really been done, and that that little has been in Edric's hands, he would not be so contented.