But at that sound came hope back to me, for it seemed to me as the voice of Bosham bell calling for help that should come to myself, as I had been called in time of need by the like sound to the help of St. Wilfrith’s men.  And straightway I remembered the words of the good prior, and was comforted, for surely if St. Wilfrith’s might could sink the pirate ship it would be put forth for me upon the waters.  So I prayed for that help if it might be given, and for the Hand of Him who is over all things, even as the prior had bidden me understand.

Whereupon I was in no more trouble about myself, and now I began to hope that the still weather might even bring Halfden’s ship to find me.

So we passed from river to broad, and from broad to sea, and went in tow of the fishing boat until we came to that place, as nearly as might be, where I had saved Lodbrok.  I could see the sparkle of our village lights, or thought I could.

There they cast us off, and for a few minutes the two boats lay side by side on the gently-heaving water, for the wind was offshore, and little sea was running.

Then the earl rose up, lifting his hand and saying, very solemnly: 

“Farewell, thou who art innocent.  Blame not my blindness, nor think ill of me.  For I do my best, leaving you in the Hand of God, and not of man!”

So he spoke; then the oars swung and fell, and in a few moments his boat was gone into the shoreward shadows and we were alone, and I was glad.

Now I looked at Beorn, and I thought him strangely still, and so watched him.  But I soon saw that he was in some sort of fit or swoon, and paid no heed to aught.  Yet I thought it well to take his dagger from where it lay, lest he should fall on me in some frenzy.

I took up the weapon, and straightway I longed to draw it and end his life at once, while all sorts of plans for escape thereafter came into my mind.  But I could not slay a helpless man, even this one, though I sat fingering the dagger for a long while.  At last the evilness of these thoughts was plain to me; so quickly I cast the dagger overboard, and it was gone.

Then I thought I would sleep while I might, for there was no sea to fear, and the tide set with the wind away from shore from the river mouth, as I knew well, for it was ebbing.  It was weary work to watch the land growing less and less plain under the moon.  Yet I feared Beorn’s treachery, and doubted for a while, until the coil of rope that lay at my feet caught my eye as I pondered.  With that I made no more ado, but took it and bound him lightly, so that at least he could not rise up unheard by me.  Nor did he stir or do aught but breathe heavily and slowly as I handled him.  When he roused I knew that I could so deal with him that I might unbind him.

After that I slept, and slept well, rocked by the gentle rise and fall of the waves, until daylight came again.

CHAPTER VII.  HOW WULFRIC CAME TO JUTLAND.