e them. And at first this
frightened us, and we stood looking at them, almost expecting armed men
to rise from the dark hollows of the boats and fall on us.

Then I would see if such were there, and stepped softly into the
nearest. 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 had
been muffled with sacking.

Now none but a friend would have done this, unless it was a most crafty
trap to take us withal; and yet to leave the boats as they were had been
surer than to meddle with them, if such was meant.

Now Dudda, perplexed as I, though in my heart was a thought that after
all Elgar had escaped, stepped into the large boat, and there he started
back so suddenly as almost to overturn it, smothering a cry. Then was
silence for a moment, while I for my part drew my dagger. Then I saw him
stoop down, and again he hissed to me. The boats were afloat, and I drew
that 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 still
form, lying doubled over a thwart, that seemed to me to bear likeness to
him.

"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 his
shoulder, 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 death
as he had been by the arrow shot, he had yet in some way contrived to
get this boat here, and afterwards to use his last strength in muffling
the oars, and so died, spent, before he could end his task!

And for him I was not ashamed of weeping, thinking there in the
darkness, as we bore him hastily to the bank and laid him beyond the
reach of hurrying feet to come, of how he must have been shot, and so at
once feigning death have floated, or perhaps stranded on the mud, till
the Danes were gone, and then returned in spite of pain and growing
weakness 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 the
boats 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 eight
oarsmen,