Now the great ship ranged up alongside of us, and the tall warrior at the helmsman’s side hailed us again to heave to.  And I saw a man bend his bow, and an arrow flew down the wind and stuck in the deck not far from me.  Whereon Bertric raised his arm in answer and called to his men, and luffed while they lowered the sail.  The Dane at the same time struck sail, and got out some oars in order to come alongside of us.  There was no sea running that would make this dangerous.

Then I went to the low door of the after cabin, and spoke to the queen.

“Here is a ship that will come alongside ours,” I said.  “Fear nought, but wait for my word.”

And then a glint of bright colour caught my eyes, and I looked more closely into the dark place; and there sat the queen no longer as a humble abbess, but in her own dress, for she had cast off the garb she hated, and she answered me: 

“Who dares to stay the Queen of England on her passage?”

“Oh, madam,” I said, “for pity’s sake don the convent robe again.  I fear that the Danes are on us.”

Then she cowered back into the shadow and said nought, for the very word terrified her when she knew her foes were so near.  But Sister Sexberga came to the door, and she was pale enough, though her face lacked no courage.

“What shall we do, Redwald—­thane?” she said quickly.

“Keep a brave heart, sister,” I answered, “and let me manage all.  I will bide before the door, and you will hear all I say.  Then, if I say that we have the Queen of England, let our mistress come forward and disclose herself.  But I hope they will let us go free.  Pray that it may be so.”

Then the two ships jarred together, and I saw that the Dane was well manned with armed warriors, and I also saw that their leader was Egil Thorarinsson, whom I had captured and again lost at Leavenheath fight.  I will say that I was glad to see him, for I knew him as a free-spoken warrior who loved fair play, and I thought that he owed me a life, for I did not slay him when I might.

They leapt on board—­a dozen armed Danes with Egil at their head—­and there before them stood Elfric the abbot with his cross in his hand, facing them alone.  His priests were forward under cover, praying doubtless, with the athelings.  The great ship sheered off again, and bided within half arrow shot of us, all her rail crowded with men looking on.

“Neither gold nor goods have we,” Elfric cried.  “We are peaceful folk who cross the seas.  It is the part of a good warrior and viking to let such go unharmed.”

“Aye, so it is,” answered Egil; “but, as it happens, we are looking for certain peaceful folk.”

“You will not harm us,” said Elfric, who knew nought of our queen’s foolishness.  “It is but a party of church people who go to Normandy.”

“Put the holy man aside,” said Egil to his men.  “We are not heathens, and we will not hurt you, father.”