ed-cloaked Dane
come out from the trees and spy us; but there was none.

Then we reached the other bank, and stood to gain breath, for now we
were in the enemy's country, and tired as we were, we threw ourselves
down in the shelter of a broad-stemmed willow tree, on the side away
from the hill and village.

In a moment the collier touched my arm and pointed. On the crest of the
hill stood a man, looking down towards us, but he was unarmed, as well
as I could see, and, moreover, his figure seemed familiar. We watched
him closely, for he began to come down towards us, and as he came nearer
I knew him. It was one of the Combwich villeins--a fisher of the name
of Elgar.

Now I would speak with him, for he could tell me all I needed; yet I
knew not if he had made friends with the Danes, being here and seeming
careless.

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 from
behind 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 the
hut wall again. So I knew that he was not in league with the enemy, but
feared them. Therefore I rose up and called him again, adding that I was
Heregar, and needed him.

Then he came out, staring at me with his knife yet ready. But when he
saw that it was really myself he ran to meet me with a cry of joy and
knelt before me, kissing my hands and weeping; so that it was a while
before 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 me
that at first the Danes had had a strong post on the hill above us; but
that, growing confident, they had left it these two days. But there were
many passing and repassing along the road, bringing plunder back to the
ships. He had watched them from the woods, he said.

Also he told me that even now mounted men had ridden past swiftly, going
to the ships, and from that I guessed that Eanulf's force had been seen
at least, and tidings sent thereof.

Then I asked him if any boats were left unburnt, and at that a cunning
look came into his thin face, and he answered:

"Aye, master. Three of us were minded to save ours, and we sank them
with stones in the creek before we fled. But the other two are slain,
and I only am left to recover them."

Now