And I paid no heed to her.  For now horses were galloping riderless along the road and into the fields.  And men were crawling back from the fight, to fall exhausted in the rear, and then—­then the steadfast line of the scarlet-cloaked Danes charged down the hill, driving our men like sheep before them.

“Up and to your work!” said the crone, pointing towards Bridgwater; and I, who had already made two steps, with drawn sword, towards that broken, flying rabble, remembered Alswythe, and turned away, groaning, to hasten to her rescue.  For it was, as Wulfhere had said, all that I could do.

Swiftly I went, turning neither to right nor left along the road, hearing always behind me the cries of those who fled, and the savage shouts of the pursuing vikings.  I was in the midst of that crowd of thralls once, but they thinned, taking to the woods whence I had come; while I kept on.

Then I saw one of those horses, a great white steed, standing, snorting, by the wayside where he had stopped, and I spoke to him, and he let me catch and mount him, and so I rode on.

Yet when I came to the top of Cannington Hill I looked back.  All the road was full of our men, flying; and a thought came into my head, and I dared to draw rein and wait for them, linking my mail again across my face.

They came up, panting, and wild with panic, and there with voice and hand I bade them stand on that vantage ground and block the way against the Danes; bidding them remember the helpless ones in the town, who must have time to fly, and how the Danes must needs shrink from a second fight after hot pursuit.

And there is that in a Saxon’s stubborn heart which bade them heed me, and there they formed up again, wild with rage and desperate, and the line grew thicker and firmer as more came up, with the sheriff himself, till the foremost pursuing Danes recoiled, and some were slain, and I knew that the flight was over.

Then I slipped from my horse and made my way on foot, lest men should notice my going, but the horse followed me, and soon I mounted him again and galloped on.

Then I found that though I had not noticed it, my mail had fallen apart:  but I knew not if any had known me, or even had noted who I might be.

So I came to Bridgwater, bringing terror with me, as men gathered what had befallen from my haste.  Yet I stayed for none; but went on to the nunnery.

CHAPTER IX.  IN BRIDGWATER.

Two of Wulfhere’s men were by the gate, lounging against the sunny wall; but they roused into life as they heard the clatter of my horse’s hoofs, and came to meet me and take the bridle, as was their duty.  They knew who I was well enough; but thralls may not question the ways of a thane, as I was yet in their eyes, though outlawed.  Yet they asked me for news of the fight, and I told them—­lest they should raise a panic, or maybe leave us themselves—­only that our men stood against the Danes on Cannington Hill, and that beyond them the invaders could not come.  And that satisfied them.