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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"

I must be off therefore to
see to it. But I hope, if wind will serve us we may sail for home
tomorrow night. Tide serves about midnight, and waits for no man.
You had better be with us betimes."
He saw that I seemed downcast, and added thoughtfully enough: "It
is in my mind that you need have little care yet. Gerent will not
let Owen out of his sight for some time, as I think, and danger
begins when he is abroad alone, and carelessly. Maybe not till he
is at Exeter."
Then he beckoned to the two Danes who were waiting him, and made
them known to me after they had saluted the princess. Eric the
chief was a fine old warrior, iron grey and strong, and the other
was his son, who bade fair to be like his father in time. He was a
sturdy young man, and wore his arms well. They shook hands with me
frankly, and from their words it was plain that Thorgils had told
my story at Tenby already.
"This is the sick man I told you of," he said now. "He turns out to
be a Thane of Glastonbury, and Evan had a hand in some plot of the
friends of Morgan. Took him by craft and brought him here for
ransom, doubtless. I had not thought that man such a knave, and
shall distrust my judgment of men sorely in future."
Then Nona asked them what they would with the prince, and Eric told
her.
"The deer are in the valleys, Lady, and we came to tell the prince
that we have harboured the great stag of twelve points in the woods
beyond Caerau.


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