We got back by the way we came, and then knew that we could in no way take the boat to Poole.  The gale was raging at its highest, and thatch was flying from the exposed roofs.  It would be dead against us; and the sea was white with foam, even in the haven.  So we must go by road, and that was a long way.  But we must get back to Odda, for he should be in Wareham before the Danes learned, maybe, that their flight was too hurried.

Now it seemed to me that to leave Wareham was not so safe as to come into it, for no Dane would be going away from the place.  However, the bridge was down; and if it had not been done in too great haste, any fugitives from the country would have come in.  So that maybe we should meet no one on the road that goes along the shore of the great haven.

The fisherman ferried us over to the opposite shore, and then tied his boat to the staging of the landing place, saying that he was well known and in no danger.  He would sleep now, and bring his boat back when the wind fell.  So we left him, thanking him for his goodwill.

Grumbling, as men will, we set out on our long walk in the gale.  We could not miss the road, for it never left the curves of the shore, and all we had to do was to be heedful of any meetings.  There might be outposts even yet, watching against surprise.

However, we saw no man in the first mile, and then were feeling more secure, when we came to a large farmstead which stood a short bowshot back from the road, with a lane of its own leading to the great door.  What buildings there were seemed to be behind it, and no man was about; but there was light shining from one of the high windows, as if some one were inside, and plain to be seen in the moonlight were two horses tied by the stone mounting block at the doorway.

“Here is a chance for us, master,” said my comrade, coming to a stand in the roadway.  “I must try to steal these horses for ourselves.  If Danes are in the place, they have doubtless stolen them; and if Saxons, they will get them back.”

“There will be no Saxon dwelling so near the Danes,” I said.  “Maybe the place is full of Danes—­some outpost that is careless.”

“Careless enough,” said Kolgrim.  “If they are careless for three minutes more, they have lost their horses.”

Then we loosened our swords in their sheaths, and drew our seaxes, and went swiftly up the grassy lane.  The wind howled round the house so that none would hear the clank of mail, which we could not altogether prevent.  But the horses heard us, and one shifted about and whinnied as if glad to welcome us.

At that we ran and each took the bridle of that next him, and cut the halter that was tied to the rings in the wall, looking to see the doors thrown open at any moment.  Then we leaped to the saddles and turned to go.  The hoofs made a great noise on the paving stones before the doorway, yet there was no sound from inside the house.