were the Danes, and behind them, over the hill, rose the
smoke from Matelgar's burnt home.

Even as I looked, a great roar of defiance came from our men; but the
Danes made no answer, standing still and silent. And that seemed
terrible to me. So for a moment they stood, and then, as at some signal,
from them broke out that deep chant with its terrible swinging melody,
that had come faintly to me from Watchet haven.

Then our men rushed forward, and even where I stood I could hear the
crash of arms on shields as the lines met--the ringing of the chime of
war--and our men fought uphill.

And now it needed all my force to keep myself, for Alswythe's sake, from
joining in that fray, and presently, when I would take my hand from my
sword hilt, it was stiff and cramped from clutching hard upon it, as I
watched those two lines swaying, and heard the yells of the fighters.

And indeed I should surely have joined, but there came a voice to me:

"Bide here in patience, Heregar, the king's thane! There is work for you
yet that fighting will hinder."

And the old crone, Gundred, who had come I know not how, laid her hand
on my arm.

"Look at the tide, Heregar, look at the tide!" she said, pointing to
Parret river, where the mud banks lay bare and glistening with the
falling water. "Let them drive these Danes back to their stranded ships,
and how many will go home again to Denmark, think you?"

And I prayed that this might be so: for I knew she spoke truth. If they
might not reach their ships, and became penned in on Stert, they were
lost--every one, for none might cross the deep ooze.

"Not this time, Heregar. Remember, when the time comes," she said.

And I paid no heed to her. For now horses were galloping riderless along
the road and into the fields. And men were crawling back from the fight,
to fall exhausted in the rear, and then--then the steadfast line of
the scarlet-cloaked Danes charged down the hill, driving our men like
sheep before them.

"Up and to your work!" said the crone, pointing towards Bridgwater; and
I, who had already made two steps, with drawn sword, towards that
broken, flying rabble, remembered Alswythe, and turned away, groaning,
to hasten to her rescue. For it was, as Wulfhere had said, all that I
could do.

Swiftly I went, turning neither to right nor left along the road,
hearing always behind me the cries of those who fled, and the savage
shouts of the pursuing vikings. I was in the midst