forgotten that there was little fear for myself, as I have said,
unless that it had been Rorik's crew who had found us, for only a
few of them knew me.

We came now to a place where the trees thinned away on the brow of
a hill, and I could see the broad waters of the haven through their
trunks. We had reached the crest of that little cliff over which
Wilfrith's heathen had cast themselves in the great famine from
which he saved them.

"Let us see the last of Bosham," the prior said sadly. So we crept
through the fern and long grass, and lying down looked out over
haven and village. Even if a prying Dane looked our way he would
hardly see us thus hidden, or if he did would take us but for
villagers and care not.

Now I saw that the tide was on the turn, and that Halfden's
ship--my own ship, as I have ever thought her--had hauled out, and
her boats waited for the last of the crew at the wharf side. But
Rorik's ship was there still, and her men were busy rigging a crane
of spars as though they would lower some heavy thing on board her.
Nor could I guess what that might be.

Then I looked at the village, which was burning here and there, and
at the monastery. They had not fired the church, and the Danes
clustered round the tower doorway, busied with something, and I
could see them well, for the smoke from the burning buildings blew
away from us.

Now I asked the prior what heavy things worth carrying away might