CHAPTER XIV. ELGAH THE FISHER.
Now men have said that this plan of mine needed no ghost to set itforth, but is such that would enter the mind of any good leader. Thatmight be so had there been one there who knew the country as I knew it,but there was not. And I was no general as was Eanulf. However thatmight be, I tell what happened to me in the matter, and sure am I thatbut for Matelgar's bidding I had never thought of this place or plan.
But once Ealhstan had heard thereof, the thought of it seemed everbetter to him. And when we were fairly marching along the level towardsBridgwater he called me, and began to talk of that business of spyingout the crossing place.
Now I too had been thinking of that same, and asked him to let me go atonce, taking one man with me. Then would I rejoin him as best I might,and close to the place where I might fix on means of getting over.
Now there seemed little danger in the matter, for our spies had reportedno Danes on this side of Parret, for they kept the water between us andthem, doubtless knowing that Osric had gone to Brent at first, andthinking it likely that another levy might be made. So the bishop, notvery willingly, as it seemed to me, let me go, as there was none elsewho could go direct to the point as I could without loss of time, evenas Osric told him.
Then I gave the standard into Wulfhere's hand, and must seek one to gowith me. First I thought of Wislac, but he was a stranger, and then myeyes lit on my collier, and I knew that I need go no further. So Icalled him, and taking him aside--while the men streamed past us,looking at my silver arms and speaking thereof to one another--toldhim what we had to do.
Whereat his eyes sparkled, and he said that it was good hearing.
"But, master," he went on, "take off those bright arms of yours and letus go as marshmen. Then will be no suspicion if the Danes see us fromacross the water."
That was wise counsel, and we left our arms in a baggage wagon,borrowing frocks from the churls who followed us, and only keeping ourseaxes in our belts.
Then Dudda found a horse that was led with the wagons, and I bade theman whose it was lend it to him, promising good hire for its use. And sowe two rode off together across the marshland, away by Burnham, whilethe levy held on steadily by the main road.
Then was I glad that I had brought the collier, for the marsh wastreacherous and hard to pass in places. But he knew the firm ground, asit were, by nature, and we went on quickly enough. Now and then wepassed huts, but they were empty; for away across the wide river mouthat Burnham, though we rode not into that village, we could see the sixlong black ships as they lay at Stert, and the smoke of the fires theirguard had made on shore.
But on this side of the river they had been, for Burnham was but a heapof ashes. They had crossed in their small boats, doubtless, and foundthe place empty.
Then at last we came to a hut some two miles off in the marshes fromCombwich, and in that we left our horses, giving them hay from thelittle rick that stood thereby. To that poor place, at least, the Daneshad not come, for the remains of food left on the table showed that theowners had fled hastily, but in panic, and that none had been near theplace since.
Now Dudda would have us take poles and a net we found left, on ourshoulders, that we might seem fishers daring to return, or maybe drivenby hunger to our work. For we must go unhidden soon, where the marshlandlay open and bare down to the river, the alder and willow holts ceasingwhen their roots felt the salt water of the spring tides. But we hadbeen able to keep under their cover as far as the hut.
So we went towards the river, as I had many a time seen the fishers goin the quiet days that were past; and we said little, but kept our eyesstrained both up and down the river for sign of the Danes.
But all we saw was once, far off on Stert, the flash of bright arms orhelm; and there we knew before that men must be.
On Combwich hill was no smoke wreath of the outpost fires I had feared,nor could I see aught moving among the trees. Then at last we stood onthe river bank and looked across at the little haven. All the huts wereburnt and silent. There were many crows and ravens among the trees abovewhere they had stood, and a great osprey wheeled over our heads as welooked.
"No men here," said my comrade, "else would not yon birds be so quiet."
But I could see no boat, and my heart sank somewhat; for nothing wasthere on this bank wherewith to make the raft of which Wulfhere spake.
Then said I: "Let us swim over and see what we can find."
Now it was three hours after noon, or thereabouts, and the tide wasrunning out very swiftly, and it was a long passage over. Neverthelesswe agreed to try it, and so, going higher up the stream, we castourselves in, and swam quartering across the tide.
A long and heavy swim it was, but no more than two strong men could wellmanage. All the time, however, I looked to see some red-cloaked Danecome out from the trees and spy us; but there was none.
Then we reached the other bank, and stood to gain breath, for now wewere in the enemy's country, and tired as we were, we threw ourselvesdown in the shelter of a broad-stemmed willow tree, on the side awayfrom the hill and village.
In a moment the collier touched my arm and pointed. On the crest of thehill stood a man, looking down towards us, but he was unarmed, as wellas I could see, and, moreover, his figure seemed familiar. We watchedhim closely, for he began to come down towards us, and as he came nearerI knew him. It was one of the Combwich villeins--a fisher of the nameof Elgar.
Now I would speak with him, for he could tell me all I needed; yet Iknew not if he had made friends with the Danes, being here and seemingcareless.
We lost sight of him among the trees, and the birds flew up, croaking,from them, marking his path as yet towards us; and at last he came frombehind a half-burnt hut close to us. Then I called him by name.
He started, and whipped out a long knife, and in a moment was behind thehut wall again. So I knew that he was not in league with the enemy, butfeared them. Therefore I rose up and called him again, adding that I wasHeregar, and needed him.
Then he came out, staring at me with his knife yet ready. But when hesaw that it was really myself he ran to meet me with a cry of joy andknelt before me, kissing my hands and weeping; so that it was a whilebefore I could ask him anything. Very starved and wretched he looked,and I judged rightly that he had taken to the woods from the first.
Presently he was quiet enough to answer my questions, and he told methat at first the Danes had had a strong post on the hill above us; butthat, growing confident, they had left it these two days. But there weremany passing and repassing along the road, bringing plunder back to theships. He had watched them from the woods, he said.
Also he told me that even now mounted men had ridden past swiftly, goingto the ships, and from that I guessed that Eanulf's force had been seenat least, and tidings sent thereof.
Then I asked him if any boats were left unburnt, and at that a cunninglook came into his thin face, and he answered:
"Aye, master. Three of us were minded to save ours, and we sank themwith stones in the creek before we fled. But the other two are slain,and I only am left to recover them."
Now that was good hearing, and I bade the men show me where they lay,and going with him found that now the water was low, we could see themand reach them easily. There were two small boats that might hold threemen each, and one larger.
Then I told Elgar how I needed them for this night's work, and at firsthe was terrified, fearing nothing more than that his boats should belost to him after all. But I promised him full amends if harm came tothem, and that in the name of Osric, which he knew well. And with thathe was satisfied.
So with a little labour we got the two small boats afloat, and then castabout where to hide them; for though Elgar said that the Danes came notnigh the place, it was likely that patrols would be sent out after thealarm of Eanulf's approach, and might come on them.
At last Elgar said that there was a creek half a mile or less up theriver, and on the far side, where they might lie u
nseen perhaps. Andthat would suit us well if we could get them there. And the time wasdrawing on, so that we could make no delay.
Then out of a hollow tree Elgar drew oars for both boats, and we gotthem out into the river, and Dudda rowing one, and Elgar the other, inwhich I sat, we went to the place where they should be, keeping underthe bank next the Danes. And it was well for us that the tide was solow, for else we should surely have been spied.
Yet we got them into the creek, Elgar making them fast so that theywould rise as the water rose. Then he said he would swim back, and if hecould manage it would raise the large boat and bring that also.
So without climbing out from under the high banks of the creek hesplashed out into the tideway, and started back.
Now Dudda and I must make our way along to the horses, and so we beganto get out of the creek, which was very deep, at this low ebb of thewater, below the level of the meadows. Dudda was up the bank first, andlooked towards Combwich. Then he dropped back suddenly, and bade mecreep up warily and look also, through the grass.
So I did, and then knew how near an escape we had had, for there was aparty of Danes, idlers as it seemed, among the burnt huts, turning overthe ashes with their spears and throwing stones into the water.
Then I saw Elgar's head halfway across the river, and knew he could notsee the Danes over the high bank. He was swimming straight for them, andunless he caught sight of one who stood nearest, surely he was lost. Itwas all that I could do to keep myself from crying out to him; but thatwould have betrayed us also, and, with us, the hope of our ambush. So wemust set our teeth and watch him go.
Then a Dane came to the edge of the high bank and saw him, and at thesame moment was himself seen. The Dane shouted, and Elgar stoppedpaddling with his hands and keeping his head above water.
Now we looked to see him swim back to this bank, and began to wonder ifthe enemy would follow him and so find us. And for one moment I believehe meant to do so, and then, brave man as he was, gave himself away tosave us; for he stretched himself out once more and began to swimleisurely downstream, never looking at the Danes again; for now half adozen were there and watching him, calling, too, that he should comeashore, as one might guess. But Elgar paid no heed to them, and swam on.
They began to throw stones, and one cast a spear at him, but that fellshort. Then the bank hid him from us; but we saw a Dane fixing arrow tobowstring, and saw him shoot; but he missed, surely, for he took anotherarrow and ran on down the bank.
Then Dudda pulled me by the arm, and motioned me to follow him, and Isaw no more.
Now the creek wherein we were ran inland for a quarter mile that wecould see, ever bending round so that our boats were hidden from theside where the Danes were. Up that creek we ran, or rather paddled,therefore, knee deep in mud, but quite unseen by any but the great ernethat fled over us crying.
Hard work it was, but before the creek ended we had covered half a mileaway from danger, and looking back through the grass along the bankcould see the Danes no longer. Yet we had no surety that they could notsee us, and therefore crawled yet among grass and thistles, along suchhollows as we could find.
At last we dared stand up, and still we could see no Danes as we lookedback. And then we grew bolder and walked leisurely, as fishers might,not daring to run, across to that hut where the horses were. Andreaching that our adventure was ended, for we were safe, and believedourselves unnoticed if not unseen, for there was no reason why the Danesshould think aught of two thralls, as we seemed, crossing the marsh amile away, and quietly, even if they spied us.
After we reached our horses, there is nothing to tell of our ride backto the bishop. We overtook him before dark, where his men were haltedtwo miles from Bridgwater, on the road, waiting for word from Eanulf.
Much praise gave he to me and the collier for what we had done, as alsodid Osric. And we, getting our arms again, went back to our own placeswell content; eager also was I to tell Wulfhere and Wislac of all thathad befallen, and how I had boats for the crossing.
And when they heard how Elgar the fisher had swam on, rather than drawattention to the place where we two lay, Wulfhere nodded and said: "Thatwas well done," and Wislac said: "Truly I would I could do the like ofthat. Much courage is there in the man who will face a host withcomrades beside him against odds; but more is there in the man who willgo alone to certain death because thereby he will save others."
Even as we talked there came riding a man from Bridgwater, going fast,yet in no great hurry as it seemed. He rode up to us, for there was thestandard, and asked for the bishop, having word from Eanulf for him; andGuthlac told Ealhstan, who came up to speak to him, bidding us bide andlisten.
What the man had to tell was this. That the Danes had, in some way, hadword of the march of our levies, and had straightway gathered together,or were yet gathering from their raidings here and there, on the steephill above Bridgwater, having passed through the town, or such as wasleft thereof after many burnings. And it was Eanulf's plan to attackthem there with the first light, if the bishop would join him with hislevy.
Then the bishop asked if there had been any fighting. And the man saidthat there had been some between the van of our force, and the rear ofthe Danish host; but that neither side had lost many men, nor had therebeen any advantage gained except to clear the town of the heathen.
Having heard that, Ealhstan bade me go aside with him, and called Osricand some more of the thanes to hold a council. And in the end it wasdecided that Osric should take on the bulk of the levy to join theealdorman, while the bishop and I, and two hundred of the men, shouldtry that crossing at Combwich.
"For thus," said Ealhstan, "we can fall on the Danes from behind if theystand or in flank if they retreat."
And except that the bishop would go with me, this pleased them wellenough; but they tried to dissuade him from leaving the levy. But helaughed and said that indeed he was only going on before it, for toreach him they would have to go clear through the Danes where they stoodthickest, and when they reached the standard, victory would be theirs.
Then they cried that they would surely not fail to reach him, and so thematter was settled, and the thanes told this to their men, who shoutedand cheered, so that this seemed to be a good plan after all.
Now the bishop rode among the men, calling out those whom he knew well,and bidding the thanes give him their best, or if they had no best, suchas could swim, and very shortly we had full two hundred men ranged onone side of the road, waiting with us, while the rest went off towardsBridgwater, the bishop blessing them ere they started. And as they wentthey shouted that we should meet again across the ranks of Danes.
When they were gone the bishop bade us rest. And while we lay along theroadside he went up and down, sorting out men who could swim well, andthere were more than half who could do so, and more yet who said theywere swimmers though poor at it.
Then he told me his plan. How that the men who could not swim must goover first in the boats, and then the arms of the rest should be ferriedover while they swam, and so little time would be lost: but all must bedone in silence and without lights. So we ate and slept a little, andthen, when it grew dark, started off across the meadows. And there thecollier guided us well, having taken note of all the ground we hadcrossed in the morning, as a marshman can.
It was dark, and a white creeping mist was over the open land when wereached it. But over the mists to our left we could see the twinkle ofDanish watchfires, where they kept the height over Bridgwater; and againto the right we could see lights of fires at Stert, where the ships lay.But at Combwich were no lights at all, and that was well.
Presently we reached a winding stretch of deep water, and though it wasfar different when I saw it last, I knew it was the creek in which ourboats lay, and up which Dudda and I had fled, full now with the risingtide.
We held on down its course until Dudda told me in a low voice that wewere but a bowshot from the boats, and that now it were well for the mento lie down that they
might be less easily noticed.
So the word was passed in a whisper down the line, and immediately itseemed as if the force had vanished, as the white mist crept over wherethey had stood.
Now Dudda and I went down to the boats and there found, not the two wehad left only, but a third and larger one beside them. And at first thisfrightened us, and we stood looking at them, almost expecting armed mento rise from the dark hollows of the boats and fall on us.
Then I would see if such were there, and stepped softly into thenearest. It was empty, and so was the next, and these were our two.Dudda came after me, and he hissed to me under his breath. The oars hadbeen muffled with sacking.
Now none but a friend would have done this, unless it was a most craftytrap to take us withal; and yet to leave the boats as they were had beensurer than to meddle with them, if such was meant.
Now Dudda, perplexed as I, though in my heart was a thought that afterall Elgar had escaped, stepped into the large boat, and there he startedback so suddenly as almost to overturn it, smothering a cry. Then wassilence for a moment, while I for my part drew my dagger. Then I saw himstoop down, and again he hissed to me. The boats were afloat, and I drewthat I was in up to the big boat.
"Oh, master," said Dudda, whispering, "surely this is Elgar the fisher!"
And I, peering into the dark bottom of the boat could see a dark stillform, lying doubled over a thwart, that seemed to me to bear likeness tohim.
"Is he dead?" I asked.
"Aye, master, but not long," answered the collier; feeling about.
"Ah!" he said, with a sort of groan, "here is a broken arrow in hisshoulder, and in his hand somewhat to muffle the oars withal. Well done,brave Elgar--well done!"
Then I climbed softly over the gunwale, and so it was. Wounded to deathas he had been by the arrow shot, he had yet in some way contrived toget this boat here, and afterwards to use his last strength in mufflingthe oars, and so died, spent, before he could end his task!
And for him I was not ashamed of weeping, thinking there in thedarkness, as we bore him hastily to the bank and laid him beyond thereach of hurrying feet to come, of how he must have been shot, and so atonce feigning death have floated, or perhaps stranded on the mud, tillthe Danes were gone, and then returned in spite of pain and growingweakness to do what he had set himself for the sake of his country.
But there was no time for more than thought, and now that we knew theboats safe, I went back to the bishop, and told him that all was ready.And he, ever thoughtful, had told off skilful men to row the boats over,and though now we must have enough for three, he had found six or eightoarsmen, and there was no delay, though they must work with less change,and the tide was still making, so that the pull to Combwich creek wouldbe hard.
Then ten men went softly to the boats, and at the last I bade them pullacross to where they might, not making for the creek, and in a minute ortwo they were gone into the mist and darkness.
Then came crawling to the river bank some six or eight men, strongswimmers, and would have tried to cross; but I bade them wait till thenext boatloads went over, so that they might cross beside them, andcling to the gunwale if the stream was too strong. However, though mostknew that was good counsel, two must needs try it, and one got across,nearly spent, and the other came back, clinging to the first boat toreturn, else had he been drowned, and it was a lucky chance that theboat met him.
Now the man who rowed this first boat reported that there was silence,and no sign of Danes, on the other side, and so also did the rest asthey came. After that the crossing went on quickly, men swimming besidethe boats, and in an hour and a half all were over.
When we found that all was safe, the bishop bade me cross with thestandard, and so keep the men together. He himself came last of all.
When Wulfhere came, swimming beside the boat in which sat Wislac, hetook three men and went quietly to Combwich, which was nearly half amile from where we landed, and was back presently, reporting all quiet.
Then Dudda and the other rowers sank the boats, lest they should be seenby chance, and so betray us and our crossing.
Now we went--I leading through this place I knew so well--round thehead of the little creek, and so on up the hill, walking in single filealmost, and very silently. And when we topped the hill--there beforeus, among the tree trunks, glowed a little fire, and round that sat sixDanes, wrapped in their red cloaks, and, as I could see, all or most ofthem asleep.
At that I stopped, and the line behind me stopped also, making a clatterof arms as men ran against one another in the dark.
One of the Danes stirred at that, and looked up and round; but he couldsee nothing, and so folded himself up again. Then I saw that they had anale cask.
Now I knew that this post must be surrounded and taken, and whispered toWulfhere, who was next me, what to do. And he answered that he wouldmanage it, bidding me stand still. Then he went down the line,whispering in each man's ear, till he had told off twenty men, and themhe sent off right and left into the darkness and I was left with Wislacstanding alone, watching the Danes.
I kept my eyes fixed on them till they seemed to waver and grow dim, sointently did I watch them; and then all of a sudden there was the soundof a raven's croak, and into the firelight and on those carelesswatchers leapt Wulfhere and his men from all around.
There was one choked cry, and that was all, and Wulfhere beckoned to me.I advanced, and the line closed up and followed.
Now we stood on Combwich hill, and all was well so far. Ealhstan came upto me, unknowing of what had caused the halt, being over the brow of thehill, and when he knew, said it was well done, and that now we mightrest safely for a time.
So we bade the men sit down, and those who were wet made up the fireafresh: for there was no need to put it out, but rather reason forallowing the Danes to see it burning, as if in safety.
When we three sat by the bishop, Wislac asked what we were to wait for,and, indeed, that must be the next thought.
Then said the bishop that after a while he would take the force to thewoods that overhung the roadway, and so wait for the Danes as Eanulf andOsric drove them back; but that it was not more than midnight yet.
Then came a little silence, and in that I seemed to hear the sound offootsteps coming up the hill from Combwich, and bade the others listen.And at the same time some of the men heard the sound, and started up tosee who came. But they were the steps of one man only, walking carelessly.
Into the light of the fire stepped one, at the sight of whom the menstared, though Wislac laughed quietly. It was that young thane who hadwanted to fight my friend Wislac on the day of the council. He was verywet, and tired, throwing himself down beside us when he saw where we sat.
Ealhstan asked him who bade him come, and how he had followed us.
"Nearly had I forgotten a dispute I have with Wislac the Thane here.Wherefore I asked no man's leave, but followed you just too late for thecrossing. So needs must swim. And here am I to see that Wislac countsfairly, and that he may have the same surety of me."
Whereat we were obliged to laugh, and most of all the bishop, because hewould fain have been angry, and could not. Then the thane, whose namewas Aldhelm, asked who was the slain man over whose body he hadwell-nigh fallen on the other side of the river. So I told them of Elgarthe fisher and of his brave deeds, and they were silent, thinking ofwhat his worth was; too great indeed for praise. Only the bishop said heshould surely have a mound raised over him as over a warrior, chargingus three, or whichever lived after this fight, to see to that.
Now we slept a little, posting sentries at many points, and giving thosenext the Danes on either side the red cloaks of the picket we had slain,lest daylight should betray them. It was in all our minds that atdaybreak our men would attack from Bridgwater, driving the Danes back onus, and so we should fall on them while they were retreating, andcomplete the victory. So we had men on the hill overlooking the road toBridgwater through Cannington that they might give us the fir
st warning.
Therefore I slept quietly, and all with me. And as I slept I dreamed.
It seemed that I was standing alone on Brent Hill and from that I couldlook all over the land of Somerset, as an eagle might look, but beingclose to everything that I would see. And I saw all that I had donesince I stood there as a prisoner, watching myself curiously in all thatI did, and yet knowing all the thoughts that drove me to deed after deed.
And so through the mirk wood till I turned and slew, and armed myself,and tormented my prisoner; then to the collier's hut, and my talkingwith the child; then on till I saw the lights of the viking ships and sothereafter bore the war arrow--everything, till at last I saw myselfsleeping under the trees, on the top of this hill of Combwich, and thereI thought my dream would surely end; but it did not.
For now out of the shadows came Matelgar and stood beside me and wakedme, and he told me that when the tide was out I must be up and doing.And so he passed. And the old crone, Gundred, came out of the shadows,and sat on her bundle of sticks and looked at me, and she too bade me beup and doing when the tide was low. And she looked at the standard thatlay beside me, and said, "Aye, a standard; but not yet the Dragon ofWessex"; and so she, too, faded away.
And then came Alswythe, and as she came, it seemed, as I looked, that Istretched my arms to her; but she smiled and said, "Love, when the tideis out, I shall be praying in the abbey for you and your men."
And then from beside her came Turkil, the little child, smiling also,but hanging to Alswythe's dress as he said, "Warrior, when the waterfalls low, my father will call me from the hill, and I will pray for youand for him."
So these two were gone. And at that I seemed to see our men lie inBridgwater, and there was Turkil's father, the franklin, sleeping withthe rest. But up and down among them went Eanulf the Ealdorman, watchingever.
Then fled I, as it were, to that hill where lay the Danes, and on theroad thither I saw Osric and twenty men, looking up at the fires thatburnt where the enemy lay.
And then I looked on those fires, and there were no men round them.
One shook me by the shoulder, and my dream went.
It was Dudda, and his eyes were bright in the firelight.
And over Brent the first streaks of dawn were broadening, and the mistswere gone.
"Master, master," he said, "come with me to the roadway. Something isafoot."
Then I woke Wulfhere, asking him to wait for me, guarding the standard,and followed my man swiftly to the place where the road cuts the hill.And there was a knot of the men, standing and listening.
I listened also, and far off towards Cannington I could hear the soundof the tread of many feet, for the morning was still and quiet; and themen said that this was growing nearer.
Then knew I that the Danes were falling back to the ships withoutrisking battle, and my dream came back to me, with its vision ofunguarded watch fires, and it seemed to me that surely, unless we couldstay them, they would depart with the tide as it fell.
"How is the tide?" asked I of the men round me.
"Failing now," said one who knew, "but not fast."
Then I remembered things I had hardly noted in years gone by. How thetide hung around Stert Point, as though Severn and Parret warred for awhile, before the mighty Severn ebb sucked Parret dry, and how the ebbat last came swift and sudden.
"When the tide is low," said they whom I had seen in my dream.
And in a moment I recalled the first fight, and the words of Gundred,and I knew that we had the Danes in a trap.
They were marching now in time to gain their ships and be off as thelast man stepped on board, with the full draft of the ebb to set themout to sea beyond Lundy Isle, into open water. Nor had they left theirpost till the last moment, lest our levy should be on their heels, orelse some more distant marauding party had not come in till late.
I went back to Wulfhere and told him this, and in it all he agreed.
And, as we whispered together, Ealhstan sat up, asking quickly, "Whospoke to me?" and looking round for one near him, as it seemed.
"None spoke, Father," said I, "or none but Wulfhere to me, whispering."
"What said Wulfhere?"
"That the tide was failing," I answered.
The bishop was silent for a moment, and then he said:
"I heard a voice, plainly, that cried to me, 'Up! for the Lord hasdelivered these heathen into your hands'."
"We heard no such voice, Father," I said, "but I think it spoke true."
Now the light was broadening, making all things cold and gray as itcame. And quickly I told Ealhstan what I had heard, and what both I andWulfhere thought of the matter.
"Can we let them pass us, and so fall on them as they gain the levelland of Stert?" asked Ealhstan, saying nothing more.
"That can we," I answered. "They will keep to the road, and we can drawback to the edge of the hill, so taking them in flank as they leave it."
For the hills bend round a little beyond the place where the road fallsinto the level below Matelgar's hall.
"So be it," said the bishop. "Go you, Wulfhere, and see how near thehost is, and come back quickly."
When he was gone the bishop bade me wake the men. And at first I was forgoing round, but by this thane Wislac had waked, and had been listeningto us: and he said that if I would let him wake the men he could do itwithout alarm or undue noise. Only I must raise the standard and bidthem be silent. At that the bishop smiled and nodded, and I raised thestandard, and waited.
Then Wislac stood up and crowed like a cock, and instantly the men beganto turn and sit up, and as their eyes lit on the standard raised intheir midst, became broad awake, each man rousing the next sleeper ifone lay near him. And there was the bishop, finger on lip, and they weresilent.
"Verily I thought on the hard chapel stones," muttered Guthlac, the laybrother, behind me.
"It is the war chime, not the matin bell, you shall hear this morning,"said one of his brethren.
"That is better--mea culpa," said Guthlac, clapping his hand on hismouth to stop his own warlike ejaculation.
Then came Wulfhere back, swiftly. Barely a mile were they from the hill,he said, and coming on quickly in loose order. Moreover, a horseman hadpassed, riding hard to the ships, doubtless to bid them be ready. Butthat would take little time, for these vikings are ever ready forflight, keeping their ships prepared from day to day.