ad drawn closer to the ring of Saxons, so that there was one
dense crowd about the open space--much narrowed now--where the
chieftains and Nicanor stood.

Not for nothing had he listened to the talk of the deep-sea fishermen
and the whalers who frequented Thorney, and stored in his memory all
that they could give him. In his tale was the clamor of the wild north
wind, the scream of wheeling gulls, the groan of straining timbers, the
rush of bubbling foam beneath sharp prows. He told of swift battle
fought over heaving waters, whose jaws yawned for their dead; and men
hung upon his words. He told of the red medley of the fight; of the
heavy fall and sullen splash of bodies into the grave which waited; of
ships that grappled in their death-throes like wrestling men and sank
locked in their grim embrace; of defeat and triumph, of high courage of
men who lost, and the higher courage of mercy of men who won; and men's
faces grew eager, who themselves had lived through scenes such as these,
and themselves had watched the death of gallant ships.

Nicanor glanced over the ring and saw that the prisoner had disappeared,
leaving not a ripple in the crowd to mark his trail. The absorbed faces
of his hearers, and the sense of what was being done behind their backs,
seized him, and he smothered a laugh. His voice flowed on, deep-toned,
vibrant, working his magic upon them, talking against time.

Somewhere in the outskirts of the crowd a horse neighed loudly; there
was a flurry among those people nearest the sound, and high over men's
heads a staff was shaken. Nicanor's speech broke midway; this was the
signal, and he no longer cared whether or not he held them. In that
instant the spell was snapped; men stirred and whispered. And suddenly a
shout of warning and anger went up--

"The prisoner! The prisoner hath gone!"

Forgotten were the tale and its teller; the inner group of Saxons surged
into commotion and uproar. There was a rising storm of assertion and
denial. Ceawlin strode to Nicanor, his link armor clashing softly as he
moved.

"Now do I believe that thou hast had to do with this!" he cried in ready
anger.

Nicanor laughed.

"Perhaps after all it had been better if thou hadst paid the price, lord
Saxon!"

Swift words sprang to Ceawlin's lips, but the elder leader ran to them,
shouting something in his own tongue. Ceawlin turned to answer, and
Nicanor slipped away.

Face to face he came with a woman seldom seen b