" Overpowered by his emotions, he
again sank upon the ground.
"Is it of Edwin of England that thou speakest, young Saxon?" asked a
soft voice in the sweet familiar language of his own native land.
He raised his head and found that he was surrounded by a party of
ladies, one of whom questioned him with an air of eager interest
respecting the expressions he had used touching the unfortunate Prince
Edwin.
Now this lady was no other than Ogina, Queen of France, the sister of
Prince Edwin. Being on a visit at the house of a great lord on the
coast of Picardy, she had come down to the beach that morning, with her
ladies of honor, to bathe: a custom among ladies, even of the highest
rank, in those days. Hearing that a Saxon bark had been driven on
shore by the storm, and seeing the disconsolate figure of Wilfrid on
the beach, she had drawn near, and, unperceived by the suffering youth,
had overheard his melancholy soliloquy.
While Wilfrid related the sad story of his master's untimely fate, the
royal lady wept aloud.
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