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Whistler, Charles W. (Charles Watts), 1856-1913

"A Prince of Cornwall A Story of Glastonbury and the West in the Days of Ina of Wessex"

"
"Well, then, there is no time to lose. We must be at the harbour in
four hours' time at the latest. Tide will serve shortly after
that," one of the others said. "What about the sword?--shall we
sell it to the Norsemen?"
"What! and so tell all the countryside what we have been doing?--it
is too well known a weapon. No, put it into one of the bales of
goods, and I can sell it safely to some prince on the other side.
No man dare wear it on this, but they will not know it there, or
will not care if they do. Now get a litter made, and bring me some
bandages."
It seemed to me to be plain that they would try to get me across
the channel into Wales, or maybe Ireland, and my heart sank. But
after all, Owen would gladly pay ransom for me, and that was the
one hope I had. And then I wondered what vessel they had ready, and
all of a sudden I minded that Thorgils had spoken of a winter
voyage that he was going to take on this tide, and my heart leapt.
It was likely that these men were going to sail with him, so I
might have a chance of swift rescue.
Now Evan went to work on me with the help of one of his men, who
seemed to know something of leech craft.
"This," said Evan, "is a poor friend of mine who has met with a bad
fall from his horse. His thigh is broken and his shoulder is out.


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