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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"


Then I heard two of the Norseman talking close to the cabin
bulkhead.
"This is as good a passage as we shall ever make in the old keel,"
one said; "but we shall not fetch Tenby on this tide. Will Thorgils
put in elsewhere, I wonder?"
"We could make the old landing place in an hour," was the answer,
"and we had better wait for tide there than box about in the open
channel in this cold. There is snow coming, I think."
I heard the man flap his arms across his chest, and the other said:
"Where do these merchants want to get ashore? I expect that
Thorgils will do as they think best. He is pretty good natured."
They went away, and it seemed that I might have an hour before me.
I was sure that if he had a chance Evan would land as soon as he
could, and at some other place than at the Danes' town if possible,
so that he might get me away without questions that might be hard
to answer.
So I strained at the cords which bound my elbows with all my might,
but I only hurt myself as the lashings drew tighter. I twisted from
side to side as I did this, and presently hit my elbow hard against
some metal fitting of the ship that seemed very sharp. Just at
first I did not heed this, but by and by, when I had fairly tired
myself with struggling, I minded it again, and so turned on my side
and set my free hand to work to find out what it was.


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