"
"And now go we ashore," said Bernulf. "To-morrow morn we aid the king's
spy to search the town. He will have a merry run up and down the Rows,
he and his men." And, with a hearty farewell to the skipper, Herebald
and Bernulf climbed down the side of the vessel to their little boat
gently rocking alongside.
"The business in hand hath an early end when luck goeth with a man,"
observed Bernulf, with satisfaction.
"Yea," responded Herebald. "And luck most often goeth with the man that
hath good wit of his own."
Their strong arms made light of the short distance they had to row, and
they were soon back at the little inn and at rest.
As for Richard Wood, weary as he was, he was long in finding sleep. For
ever he would be wondering in which part of the little town it were
best to begin the search. And how it were best to conduct it so that no
outsider could manage to claim part of the reward when the runaways
were captured. At last, undecided, he fell asleep, and Herebald and
Bernulf were awaiting him when he awoke rather late in the morning. In
haste he and his men ate their breakfast, and in still greater haste
they set off on the search, only to be brought to a standstill before
it was well begun; for there fronting the sea were one hundred and
forty-five little narrow streets called the Rows, and their combined
length made a distance of seven miles.
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