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

"A Thane of Wessex"


Then Dudda pulled me by the arm, and motioned me to follow him, and I
saw no more.
Now the creek wherein we were ran inland for a quarter mile that we
could see, ever bending round so that our boats were hidden from the
side where the Danes were. Up that creek we ran, or rather paddled,
therefore, knee deep in mud, but quite unseen by any but the great erne
that fled over us crying.
Hard work it was, but before the creek ended we had covered half a mile
away from danger, and looking back through the grass along the bank
could see the Danes no longer. Yet we had no surety that they could not
see us, and therefore crawled yet among grass and thistles, along such
hollows as we could find.
At last we dared stand up, and still we could see no Danes as we looked
back. And then we grew bolder and walked leisurely, as fishers might,
not daring to run, across to that hut where the horses were. And
reaching that our adventure was ended, for we were safe, and believed
ourselves unnoticed if not unseen, for there was no reason why the Danes
should think aught of two thralls, as we seemed, crossing the marsh a
mile away, and quietly, even if they spied us.
After we reached our horses, there is nothing to tell of our ride back
to the bishop.


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