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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"

It was plain that the danger had made
no impression on him.
"Were not you frightened when you found how nearly you had fallen
from the cliff?" I asked him.
"No; why should I be? I did not fall from it. I was feared enough
when I thought that I was going, and I thought I was at the bottom
when I came to myself. But as I had not gone so far, there was an
end."
I minded the story of the Huntsman's Leap, and how I had felt when
I knew my escape. It was plain that this forest-bred Erpwald, with
his cool head, and lack of power to picture what might have been,
would make a good warrior, so far as dogged fearlessness goes, and
that is a long way.
Now the ealdorman kept what else he might have to say until we were
at home, for it was time for us to be off. So we brushed Erpwald
down and hid his cut under a cap that the good franklin of the
house lent him, for his own was gone, as he said, to make a bird's
nest somewhere on the cliffs; and then Elfrida came from the
cottage, looking a little white and shaken with her fright, but
otherwise none the worse, and we started.
Erpwald kept out of her sight for a little while, but as we were
fairly on the way home it was not long before he found his way to
her side, and we let those two have their say out together.
One by one the friends who had joined us dropped out of the party
as their way led them aside, until by the time we reached the
ealdorman's house only half a dozen of us were left.


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