CHAPTER VI. HOW OSWALD HAD AN UNEASY VOYAGE AND A PERILOUS LANDING AT ITS

END.

I thought that Evan had forgotten to gag me, but before we went to the gate of the stockade he came and did it well. I could not see a soul near but my captors, and it would have been little or no good to shout. So I bore it as well as I might, being helpless. Then, within arrow shot of the gate, one of the men blew a harsh horn, and we waited for a moment until a man, armed with an axe and sword, lounged through the stockade and looked at us, and so made a gesture that bid us enter, and went his way within. I hope that I may never feel so helpless again as I did at the time when I passed this man, who stared at me in silence, unable to call to him for help.

Then we crossed the green without any one paying much heed to us, though I saw the women at the doors pitying me, and so we came to the wharf, alongside which a ship was lying. There were several men at work on her decks, and it was plain that she was to sail on this tide, for her red-and-brown striped sail was ready for hoisting, and there was nothing left alongside to be stowed. She was not yet afloat however, though the tide was fast rising.

Evan hailed one of the men, and he came ashore to him. The bearers set down my litter and waited.

"Where is the shipmaster?" Evan asked.

The man jerked his thumb over his shoulder, and lifted his voice and shouted "Ho Thorgils, here is the Welsh chapman."

I saw the head of my friend rise from under the gunwale amidships, and when he saw who was waiting he also came ashore. Evan met him at the gangway.

"I thought you were not coming, master chapman," he said. "A little later and you had lost your voyage. Tide waits for no man, and Thorgils sails with the tide he waits. Therefore Thorgils waits for no man."

Just for a moment a thought came to me that Thorgils was in league with the outlaws, and that was hard. But Evan's next words told me that in this I was wrong. It would seem that the taking of his ill-gotten goods across the channel had been planned by Evan before he fell in with me, and maybe that already made plan was the saving of my life, by putting the thought of an easy way to dispose of me to some profit into the outlaw's head.

"I had been here earlier," he said, "but for a mischance to my friend here. I want to take him with me, if you will suffer it."

He pointed to me as he spoke, and Thorgils turned and looked at me idly. I was some twenty yards from him as I lay, and I tried to cry out to him as his eyes fell on me, but I could only fetch a sort of groan, and I could not move at all.

"He seems pretty bad," said Thorgils, when he heard me. "What is amiss with him? I can have no fevers or aught of that sort aboard, with the young lady as passenger, moreover."

"There is nothing of that," Evan answered hastily. "It is but the doing of a fall from his horse. The beast rolled on him, and he has a broken thigh, slipped shoulder, and broken jaw, so that it will be long before he is fit for aught again, as I fear. Now he wants to get back to his wife and children at Lanphey, hard by Pembroke, and our leech said that he would take no harm from the voyage. It is calm enough, and not so cold but that we may hap him up against it. If I may take him, I will pay well for his passage."

Thorgils looked at me again for a moment.

"Well," he said, "if that is all, I do not mind. It would be better if the after cabin was empty, but of course the princess has that. There is room for him to be stowed comfortably enough under the fore deck with your bales, however, and it will be warm there. Ay, we will take the poor soul home, for his mind will be easier, and that will help his healing. It is ill to be laid up in a strange land. Get him on board as soon as you can, for there is but an hour to wait for tide. I will ask no pay for his passage, for he is but another bale of goods, as it were, swaddled up in that wise, and I told you that I would take all you liked to bring for what we agreed on."

Evan thanked him, and Thorgils laughed, turning away to go up the town, and saying that he would be back anon. I groaned again as he passed me, and he looked straight in my eyes, which were all that he could see of me.

"Better on board than in that litter, poor fellow," he said kindly; "it is a smooth sea, and we shall see Tenby in no long time if this breeze holds."

He passed on with a nod and smile, and I could almost have wept in my rage and despair. I could not have thought of anything more cruel than this, and there was a sour grin on Evan's face, as if he knew what was passing in my mind.

Now they lifted me once more and carried me to the ship, setting me down amidships while they got the bales of goods on board. She was a stout trading vessel, built for burden more than speed, but she seemed light in the water, as though she had little cargo for this voyage. She had raised decks fore and aft, and there were low doors in the bulkheads below them that seemed to lead to some sort of cabins. Under the forward of these decks the outlaws began to stow their bales, the man who had called Thorgils ashore directing them.

I lay just at the gangway, and a little on one side so as not to block it, and I watched all that went on, helplessly. There was no one near me, or I think that I should have made some desperate effort to call a Norseman to my help. Maybe Evan thought me safer here than nearer the place where all were busy, as yet, but presently I heard voices on the wharf as if some newcomers were drawing near, and Evan heard them also, and left his cargo to hasten to my side. I saw that he looked anxious, and a little hope of some fresh chance of escape stirred in me, though, as they had carried me on board feet foremost, I could not see who came.

When they were close at hand their voices told me that one at least was a lady, and that she and her companions were Welsh. I supposed that this was the princess of whom I had heard Thorgils speak just now. I should know in a moment, for the first footsteps were on the long gangplank and pattering across it, while Evan began to smile and bow profoundly.

Then there came past my litter, stepping daintily across the planks, a most fair and noble lady, tall and black haired and graceful, wrapped against the sea air in the rare beaver skins of the Teifi River, and wonderful stuffs that the traders from the east bring to Marazion, such as we Saxons seldom see but as priceless booty, paid for with lives of men in war with West Wales in days not long gone by.

She half turned as she saw me, and it gave me a little pang, as it were, to see her draw her dress aside that it might by no means touch me, no doubt with the same fear of fever that had been in the mind of my friend at the first. But then she stayed and looked at me and at Evan, who was yet cringing in some Welsh way of respect as she passed. Her companions stopped on the gangplank, and they were silent.

"Why is this sick man on the ship," she said to my captor, with some little touch of haughtiness. "And why is he swathed thus? What is wrong with him?"

Evan bowed again, and at once began his tale as he had told it to Thorgils. But he did not say that I came from near Pembroke at all. Now he named some other place whose name began with "Llan--" as my home.

"The good shipmaster has suffered me to take him home, Lady, subject to your consent," he ended. "I pray you let it be so."

Now the eyes of the princess had grown soft as she heard the tale, and when Evan ended it there was pity in her voice as she answered.

"Surely he may come, and if there is no fitting place for him he shall even have the cabin to himself. I can be well content in these warm things of mine on deck in this calm air, and he must have all shelter."

"Nay, Lady, but there is the fore cabin, where he will be well bestowed," Evan said hastily, beckoning at the same time to his comrades that they might take me from this too unsafe place at once.

He kept himself between me and her as much as he could all this time, and I made no sign. It seemed to me that I could not, even in my trouble, bring more pain to this soft-eyed princess by raising the groan which was all that I could compass. What good would it do? I could tell her nothing, and she could not dream of the true reason that made me try to cry out. Maybe she would listen through all the long hours to come to hear if the poor wretch she felt for was yet in that dire pain that made him moan so terribly.

"Is he well bandaged?" she said, then. "It is ill if broken bones are not closely set and splinted, and the ship will plunge and rock presently."

Evan assured her with many words that all was well done, and yet she lingered.

"I must see him well and softly bestowed in his place," she said, half laughing, and turning to some who stood yet beyond my range of sight. "Else I shall have no peace at all till we come to land again."

Evan turned to me at that saying, to hide his face. He was growing ashy pale, and the sweat was breaking out on his forehead. And that made me glad to see, for he was being punished. Even yet the princess might wish to see that my swathings were comfortable, and if I once had my mouth freed for a moment all was lost to him.

He signed to his comrades to lift me carefully, and then put a bold face on the matter, and thanked the princess for her kindness.

"Lady, I may be glad to beg a warm wrap or two from your store," he said. "If it pleases you, we will shew you where he is to lie."

So they went forward, I on my litter first, and the lady and her people following. Evan knew well enough that little fault could be found with the warm place that was ready for me among the bales under the deck, and he was eager to get me out of sight before Thorgils returned. They had made a place ready with some of the softer bales for me to lie on, and there they lifted me from the litter, very carefully indeed, that they might not have to rearrange any of my bonds. Then the princess looked in through the low doorway and seemed content.

"It is as well as one can expect on board a ship, I suppose," she said, with a little sigh. "But I will send him somewhat to cover him well."

And then she bade me farewell, bidding me be patient for the little while of the voyage, and also adding that presently, when she was at home, she would ask Govan the hermit to pray for me; and so went her way, with the two maidens who were with her, and followed by a couple of well-armed warriors, all of whom I could see now for the first time.

Then Evan drew his hand over his forehead and cursed. As for the other Welshmen, they looked at one another, saying nothing, but I could see that they also had been fairly terrified. One of the men of the princess came with a warm blanket to cover me, and he stayed to see it put over me. It was as well that he did so, for Evan had no time to see that my arm was yet loose, unless he had forgotten that it ever had been so. Then they all went out, shutting the door after them, and I was left to my thoughts, which were not happy.

I began to blame myself as a fool for not trying to let the princess see that all was not right. But still I could not lose hope, for Thorgils might yet wish to see me, or the princess might send her men to look in on me. There were more chances now than a little while ago, as I thought.

I began to think over all that were possible, presently, and I tried to get the gag from my mouth. I could not reach it with my free hand, however, my elbows being too tightly fastened back even after all the shaking of the journey. Then I thrust that free hand and forearm well among the bandages across my chest, so that either of my captors who thought of it might think that the other had bound it, for I dared not try to loosen myself more yet. There would be time for that when we were fairly at sea.

After that I lay still, and so spied the bale in which my sword had been put, and that gave me some sort of hope by its nearness to me, though indeed it did not seem likely that I should ever get it.

I heard Thorgils come on board before very long, and I could hear also the voice of the princess as she talked to him, though with the length of the vessel between us, and the wash of the ripples alongside in my ears, I did not make out if they spoke of me. Evan spoke with them also, and it is likely that they did so.

Presently I could tell by the sway of the ship that she was afloat, and the men began to bustle about the deck overhead, while Thorgils shouted some orders now and then. Soon the sides of the ship grated along the wharf as she was hauled out, and then the shore warps were hove on board with a thud above me. I felt the lift of a little wave and heard the rattle of the halliards as the sail was hoisted and the ship heeled a little, and then began the cheerful wash and bubble of the wave at her bows as she went to sea. The men hailed friends on shore with last jests and farewells, and then fell to clearing up the shore litter from the decks.

Then Evan came and looked at me. Through the door I could see the hills and the harbour beyond the high stern, and on that Thorgils was steering, with his eyes on the vane at the masthead. His men were coiling down ropes, and Evan's two men were sitting under the weather gunwale aft, talking with the guards of the princess. She was in the after cabin, I suppose, out of the way of the wind, with her maidens. I could not see her.

"Art all well, friend?" said Evan, loudly enough for the nearest Norseman to hear. "Well, that is good."

Then he sunk his voice to a whisper, and said: "That gag bides in your mouth, let me tell you. I will risk no more calling to the shipmaster."

He cast his eyes over me and grunted, and went out, leaving the low door open so that he could see me at any time. It was plain that he thought his men had fastened my arm.

Now I tried to get rid of the gag again, and I will say that the outlaw knew how to manage that business. It filled my mouth, and the bandage round the jaw held it firmly. In no way could I get it out, or so much as loosen it enough to speak. And then I was worn out, and the little heave of the ship lulled me, and I forgot my troubles in sleep that came suddenly.

I was waked by the clapping to of the cabin door and the thunder of the wind in the great square sail as the ship went on the other tack. We had a fair breeze from the southwest over our quarter as the tide set up channel, but now it had turned and Thorgils was wearing ship. The new list of the deck flung the door to, and none noticed it, for it was dark now except for the light of the rising moon, and I suppose that the other noises of the ship prevented Evan hearing that the door had closed.

I felt rested with the short sleep, and now seemed the time to try to get free if ever. I got my left hand out of the bandages where I had hidden it, and began to claw at my chin to try to free it from the swathings that kept my mouth closed, but I could hardly get at them, so tightly were my elbows lashed behind my back, and it became plain that I must get them loose first if I could. It was easy to get the bandages loose, but the knotted cord was a different matter, for the men who tied it knew something of the work, and the cord was not a new one and would not stretch.

Then I heard two of the Norseman talking close to the cabin bulkhead.

"This is as good a passage as we shall ever make in the old keel," one said; "but we shall not fetch Tenby on this tide. Will Thorgils put in elsewhere, I wonder?"

"We could make the old landing place in an hour," was the answer, "and we had better wait for tide there than box about in the open channel in this cold. There is snow coming, I think."

I heard the man flap his arms across his chest, and the other said:

"Where do these merchants want to get ashore? I expect that Thorgils will do as they think best. He is pretty good natured."

They went away, and it seemed that I might have an hour before me. I was sure that if he had a chance Evan would land as soon as he could, and at some other place than at the Danes' town if possible, so that he might get me away without questions that might be hard to answer.

So I strained at the cords which bound my elbows with all my might, but I only hurt myself as the lashings drew tighter. I twisted from side to side as I did this, and presently hit my elbow hard against some metal fitting of the ship that seemed very sharp. Just at first I did not heed this, but by and by, when I had fairly tired myself with struggling, I minded it again, and so turned on my side and set my free hand to work to find out what it was.

There was a stout post which came from beneath and through the rough flooring of the cabin on which I lay, and went upward to the deck. I daresay it was to make the cable fast to, but I could not see that, nor did it matter to me what it might be for. But what I had felt was a heavy angle iron that was bolted by one arm to the post and by the other to a thick beam that crossed the ship from side to side, so as to bind the two together. It had a sharp edge on the part which crossed the floor, and it seemed to me as if it had been set there on purpose, for if I could manage to reach it rightly I might chafe through the cords at my back. Of course, there was the chance of Evan coming in and seeing what I was at, but I could keep my covering on me, maybe, and if Thorgils came, so much the better. He would see that something was amiss.

It was no easy task to get myself in such wise that the cord was fairly on the edge of the iron, but I did it at last, and, moreover, I got the thick blanket that was over me to cover me afresh. Then I started to try to chafe the cord through, and of course I could only move a little at a time, and I could not be sure that I was always rubbing it on the same place. And the great post was sorely in my way, over my shoulder more or less, so that I must needs hurt myself now and then against it. But as this seemed my one chance I would not give up until I must.

Every now and then I stayed my sawing and had a great tug at the cords, in hopes that they would give way, but at last I knew I must saw them through almost to the last strand. It would have been easy if I could keep at work on the same spot, but that was impossible, for I could not see behind me, and the post kept shifting me as I struck it.

I wondered now that I had seen nothing of Evan for so long. Maybe if I had not been so busy the wonder would have passed, for I should have been seasick as he was. There was some sea over on this coast, and quite enough to upset a landsman. However, I was content that he did not come, without caring to know why.

Then I became aware that the movement of the ship had changed in some way. There was less of it, and the roll was longer. Soon I heard Thorgils calling to his men, and then the creak of the blocks and the thud of folds of canvas on deck told me that the sail was lowered. After that the long oars rattled as they were run out, and their even roll and click in the rowlocks seemed to say that they were making up to some anchorage or wharf. The end of the voyage was at hand, and I worked harder than ever at my bonds. I began to fear that the cords would never chafe through enough for me to snap them, and my heart fell terribly.

Now there was a shout from Thorgils, and his men stopped rowing. I heard another shout from on shore, as it seemed, and the sound of breakers on rocks was not so very distant as we slipped into smooth water. The men trampled across the deck over my head and cast the mooring ropes ashore, and then the ship scraped along a landing stage of some sort and came to rest. I worked wildly at the rope.

Judging from the voices I heard, there seemed to be a number of people on shore, and soon I heard steps coming along the deck towards the cabin door. Hastily I straightened myself, and got a fold of my blanket over my free forearm just as it opened, and Evan peered in. Past his shoulder I could see that it was bright moonlight, and I had a glimpse of tall snow-covered cliffs that towered over us.

"How goes it, friend?" he cried in a loud voice. "Hast slept well? We are in your own land, and will be ashore soon."

That was for others to hear. Then he stood aside to let a little more light into the cabin, and it seemed that he had no suspicions that all was not as he would have it. He came inside and felt me carelessly enough.

"Well," he said. "You are warm in here, and no mistake. If I mistake not, you have been trying to wriggle out of these bonds."

He set his hand under some of the lashings and pulled them without uncovering me much, though it would not have mattered if he had done so, as it was very dark in here.

As I knew only too well, they were fast as ever, and he said:

"Well, we can tie a knot fairly. Presently we will loosen you a bit--in the morning maybe."

He went and closed the door, and I fell to work again. He would leave me now for a while.

There was a long talk from ship to shore before the gangplank was run out, and presently Thorgils spoke to Evan, seemingly close to the cabin door:

"Here's a bit of luck for your princess," he said. "Her father is up in the camp yonder, with his guards behind him. Maybe there is trouble with the Tenby Danefolk, or going to be some. It is as well that we put in here. Now he bids us take the lady up to him and bide to feast with him, Will you come with me?"

"I stay by my goods," answered Evan, with a laugh. "If there is a levy in the camp there will be men who will need watching among them."

"Why, then, we six Norsemen can go, and leave you to tend the ship."

"That will be all right," said Evan, somewhat gladly, as I thought; "so long as we are here you need have no fear. Every one knows that a chapman will fight for his goods if need be. But a Welshman will not meddle with a Welshman's goods."

"So long as he is there to mind them," laughed Thorgils. "Then we can go. I do not know how soon we can be back, though."

"That is no matter. We are used to keeping watch."

"Ay. How is that hurt friend of yours after the voyage?"

"Well as one could expect," answered Evan, "He says he has slept almost all the way. He is comfortable where he is."

They went aft, and soon I heard the princess speaking with them. Then the well-known click and clash of armed men marching in order came to me, as the chief sent a guard for his daughter. It was terrible to hear the voices of honest men so close to me and to be helpless, and I worked at the rope feverishly.

I heard the princess and her party leave the ship, and almost as the last footstep left the deck one strand of the cord went. I worked harder yet, with a great hope on me.

"Presently the Norsemen will be full of Howel's mead," I heard Evan say to one of his men. "Then we will get ashore and leave swiftly. I think we need not stay to pay Thorgils for the voyage."

"Let us tell some of the shore men to bide here to help us," said the other--"we have the Saxon to carry."

"That is a good thought."

They clattered over the plank ashore, and another strand of the rope went at that time. I thought it was but one of another turn of the line, however. Five minutes more of painful sawing and straining and I felt another strand give way. That made three, and now one of the two turns of line that held my arms could have but one strand left, and that ought to be no more than I could break by force. Then I wrestled with it with little care if my struggles as I bent and strove made noise that might call attention to me, for it was my last chance. The lines bruised and cut me sorely, even through my mail, but I heeded that no more than I did the hardness of the timbers against which I rolled; and at last it did snap, with a suddenness that let my elbow fly against the iron that had been my saving, almost forcing a cry from me.

I was yet bound to my splints, but with my arms free it was but the work of a few seconds to cast off the last of my bonds, and within five minutes after the strand had parted I was on my feet, and rubbing and stretching my bruised and cramped limbs into life again. Then I felt in the darkness for the bale that held my gear, and found it and tore it open.

How good it was to gird the sword on me again, and to feel the cold rim of the good helm round my hot forehead! I was myself again, and as I slipped Gerent's gold ring on my arm I thought that it was almost worth the bondage to know what pleasure can be in the winning of freedom. I forgot that I was troubled with thirst and hunger, having touched nothing since I broke my fast with Owen; though, indeed, there was little matter in that, for I had done well at that meal with the long ride before me, and one ought to be able to go for a day and a night without food if need be, as a warrior.

Still, I was not yet out of the trouble. Thorgils had gone to some place that I knew nothing of, and I had yet to learn if there was any hope from Evan's shore going, which might make things easier or might not. I could hear no one moving about the ship, so I pushed the door open for an inch or two, and looked out into the moonlight, with my drawn sword ready in my hand.

We were in a strange place. The ship's bows were landward, so that as I looked aft I could see that we lay just inside the mouth of a little cove, whose guarding cliffs towered on either side of the water for not less than ten-score feet above the fringe of breakers, falling sheer to the water with hardly so much as a jutting rock at their feet. There was no sign of house or man at the hilltop, so that it was plain that we were not at Tenby.

Then I was able to see that we were alongside a sort of landing place that was partly natural and partly hewn and smoothed from the living rock into a sort of wharf at the foot of the cliff. From this landing place a steep road, hewn with untold labour at some ancient day, slanted sharply upward and toward the head of the cove along the face of the rocks, which were somewhat less steep on this side than across the water. I could not see the top of this road, but no doubt it was that along which Thorgils and the princess had gone, and no doubt also Evan thought to carry me up it before long.

I had a hope that my friend would return too soon for that, but it was a slender one. It was plain that he had gone too far for me to call to him. Yet could I win clear of the ship I might find or fight my way up after him, and that seemed easy with only these three Welshmen against me, and they expecting no attack.

I looked for the two who were left if I slew Evan. One sat under the weather gunwale, wrapped in a great cloak, and seemed to be sleeping. The other was not far off on the landing place, watching Evan, who was speaking with a dozen men at the foot of the rock-hewn road. I suppose that the coming in of the ship had drawn idlers from the camp I had heard of to see her, for they all had arms of some sort.

This was bad, for it seemed certain that the whole crowd would join with Evan in falling on me if he called on them. If I came forth now I had full twenty yards to cover before I reached them from the ship's side after I had settled with the men on watch. In that space all would be ready for me, and they were too many for me to cut through to the roadway. I thought too that I heard the voices of more who came downward toward the ship, though I could not see them whence I was.

Then it came into my mind that if there was any place where I could hide myself on deck I would try to creep to it while none had their eyes on the ship. Then Evan, as he went to the cabin to seek me, would have to deal with me from the rear. But that I soon saw was hopeless. The deck was clear of lumber big enough to shelter me, and the moonlight was almost as bright as day on everything, and all the clearer for the snow that covered all the land. So I began to turn over many other plans in my mind, and at last it seemed that the only thing was to wait in the cabin for the best chance that offered. Most likely Evan would do even as he had said, and try and get away at once, with all he could lay hands on. If so, I thought it would be certain that in his hurry he would bring all these men on board in order to get his goods, and maybe those belonging to Thorgils also, out and away with all haste, and so I could cut through them with a rush that must take them unawares, and so win to the camp with none to hinder me. There might be sentries who would stay me, but I should be within calling distance of my friend. Moreover, a sentry would see that I was some sort of a leader of men, and might help me. So I began to wish for Evan to act, for my fingers itched to get one downward blow at him.

I had not long to wait. He finished his talk with the men, and they all came to the ship, even as I had hoped. But only half of them came on board, leaving the rest alongside on the rock so that they might help the goods over the side. That was not all that I could have wished, but I thought that I might get through them in the surprise that was waiting for them. So I drew my sword, and for want of shield wrapped the blanket from the floor round my left arm, and stood by for the rush.

Evan walked in a leisurely way toward the door, talking to one of the newcomers as he came. The rest straggled behind him.

"I wonder how my sick man fares now," he said, and set his hand to the latch.

Then he opened the door and I shouted and sprung forth, aiming a blow at him as I came. But I was not clear of the low deck, and my sword smote the beam overhead so that I missed him, and he threw himself on the deck out of reach of a second blow, howling. I was sorry, but I could not stop, for I had to win to the shore and to the road yet.

The other men shrank from me, and I went through them easily, and so reached the shoreward gunwale. There I was stayed, for Evan had never ceased to cry to his fellows to stop me, and there was a row of ready swords waiting for me. And there were more men coming down the path, Welshmen as I could see by their arms, and by their white tunics which glimmered in the moonlight. So that was closed to me, and it seemed that here I must fight my last fight.

Then as I could not go over the side I went to the high stern and leapt on it, half hoping that the men on shore might not be quick enough to stay me from a leap thence, but they were there alongside before me. Evan was up now, and cheering on the men on deck to attack me, but not seeming to care to lead them. They gathered together and came aft to me slowly, planning, as it would seem, how best to attack me, for the steering deck on which I was raised me four feet or so above them. The men on shore could not reach me at all unless I got too near the gunwale, when some of them who had spears might easily end me.

Something alongside the ship caught my eyes, and I glanced at it with a thought that here might be fresh foes. But it was only the little boat that belonged to the ship. The wind had caught her, and was drifting her at the length of her painter as if she wanted to cross the cove to its far side. Perhaps the men saw that my eyes were not on them for that moment, for they made a rush from the deck to climb the steering platform.

Then I had a good fight for a few minutes, until I swept them back to their place. Two had won to the deck beside me, and there they stayed. Now I had a hope that the men on shore would come round to the ship and leave the way clear for me, but Evan called to them to bide where they were. He had not faced me yet, and I bade him do so, telling him that this was his affair, and that it was nidring to risk other men's lives to save his own skin. But even that would not bring him on me.

Now the men whom I had seen coming down from the cliffs' top had hurried to see what all the shouting meant, and I saw that they were well-armed warriors and mostly spearsmen. Evan cried to them to come and help, and they ranged up alongside. He told them that I was a Norseman who had gone berserk, and must needs be slain.

"That is easily managed," said the leader. "Get to your bows, men."

I saw half a dozen unslinging them, and I knew that without shield I was done, and in that moment a thought came to me. I suppose that danger sharpens one's wits, for I saw that in the little boat was my last chance. I had not time to draw her to the side, and so I cut her painter, which was fast to a cleat close to me, and as I did so the first arrow missed my head.

Then I shouted and leapt from the high stern straight among the crowd at Evan, felling one of his outlaw comrades as I lit on the deck. But I could not reach him, and in a few seconds I should have been surrounded. So I cleared a way to the seaward side and went overboard, amid a howl from my foes. I thought that I should never stop sinking, for I had forgotten my mail; but I came to the surface close to the ship, and looked for the boat. She was drifting gently away from me, and I knew that I should have all that I could do to reach her before the bowmen got to work again from the ship's deck. Some one threw an axe at me as I swam, which was waste of a good weapon, and I hoped that it was not Thorgils' best. Strange what thoughts come to a man when in a strait.

The water struck icy cold to me, and I felt that I could not stand it long, but I gained on the boat with every stroke, though it was hard work swimming in my mail and with a sword in my hand. I got rid of the blanket that was hampering my left arm, and by that time I was far enough from the ship for my foes to be puzzled by it. The moonlight was bright on the water, but the little waves tossed it so that it must have been hard for them to know which was I and which the floating stuff. Certainly, the first arrows that were shot when the bowmen got a chance at me from the ship or over her were aimed at the blanket, for I heard them strike it. Then one leapt from wave to wave past me.

I won to the boat just in time, for I could not have held on much longer. The cold was numbing me, and if I stopped swimming I must have sunk with the weight of mail. None of our old summer tricks of floating and the like were of any use with that weight on me. The arrows were coming thickly by that time, and I was glad to get to the far side of the boat and rest my hand on the gunwale, while I managed to sheathe my sword. The men could not see plainly where I was, and the arrows pattered on the planks of the boat and hissed into the water still, on the chance of hitting me. So I thought it well to get out of range before I tried to get on board, and so held the gunwale with one hand and paddled on with the other, until the arrows began to fall short, and at last ceased. A Welshman's bow has no long range, so that I had not far to go thus. But all the while I feared most of all to hear the plash of oars that would tell me that they had put off another boat in chase of me.

A little later and I should have been helpless, as I found when I tried to get into the boat. The cold was terrible, and it had hold of my limbs in spite of the swimming. It was hard work climbing over the bows, as I must needs do unless I wanted to capsize the light craft as I had overset a fisher's canoe more than once, by boarding her over the side, as we sported in the Glastonbury meres in high summer; but I managed it, and was all the better for the struggle, which set the blood coursing in my veins again. Then I got out the oars and began to pull away from the ship, with no care for direction so long as I could get away from her.

The foe had no boat, for they were all clustered in the ship or close to her on the rock, and there was a deal of noise going on among them. When I was fairly out of their way, and I could no longer make out their forms, I began to plan where I had best go, and at first I thought of a little beach that I had seen on the far side of the cove, thinking that I could get up what seemed a gorge to the cliff's top, and so hide inland somewhere. But when I could see right into the gorge, I found that it was steep and higher than I thought. My foes would be able to meet me by the time I was at the top.

There was no other place that I could see, for none could climb from the foot of the cliffs elsewhere, since if he reached the rocks he would have to stay where he leapt to them. So as there was no help for it, I headed for the open sea. No doubt, I thought, I should find some landing place along the coast before I had gone far, and meanwhile I was getting a fair start of the enemy, who would have to follow the windings of the cliffs if they cared to come after me.

I pulled therefore for the eastern end of the cove, opposite to the place where the ship lay, and so rounded the point and was out in the open and tossing on the waves in a way that tried my rowing sorely, for I am but a fresh-water boatman. Lucky it was for me that there was little sea on, or I should have fared badly. Then I pulled eastward, and against the tide also, but that was a thing that I did not know.

The boat was wonderfully light and swift, and far less trouble to send along than any other I had seen. There are no better shipwrights than the Norsemen, and we Saxons have forgotten the craft.

The terrible numbness passed off as I worked, but now the wind grew cold, and the clouds were working up from the southwest quickly, with wind overhead that was not felt here yet. I knew that I must make some haven soon, or it was likely that I should be frozen on the sea, but the great cliffs were like walls, and at their feet was a fringe of angry foam everywhere. I could see no hope as yet. Far away to the east of me a great headland seemed to bar my way, but I did not think that I should ever reach it. And all the while I looked to see the black forms of men on the cliffs in the moonlight, but they did not come. That was good at least.

Then at last my heart leapt, for I saw, as a turn of the cliffs opened out to me, another white beach with a cleft of the rocks running up from it, and I thought it best to take the chance it gave me, for I feared the blinding snow that would be here soon, and I felt that the sea was rising. If my foes were after me they would have been seen before now, as they came to the edge of the cliffs to spy me out, and anyway I dreaded them less than the growing cold. Moreover, I thought that Evan would hardly get many men to follow him on a chase of what he had told them was a madman, and a dangerous one at that. He had his goods to see to also.

So I ran the boat into the black mouth of the gorge, and beached her well by good chance. I had little time to lose, but I tied her painter to a rock at the highest fringe of tide wrack, in hopes that she might be safe. It was so dark here that I did not think that Evan would see her from above. And then I began to climb up the rugged path that led out of the gorge to the hilltops.

There were bones everywhere in it. Bones and skulls of droves of cattle on all the strand above the tide mark for many score yards. Their ribs stuck out from the snow everywhere, and the sightless eye sockets grinned at me as I stumbled over them. But I had no time to wonder how they came there, for I must get to the summit before Evan and his men reached it by their way along the cliff. I ate handfuls of the snow and quenched my thirst that was growing on me again, and my strength began to come back to me as I hurried upward. I was a better man when at last I reached the top of the gorge than when I came ashore.