“Back!” said Godwin; “for here the road is wide; and they will get behind us.”

So back they moved slowly, with their faces to the foe, stopping just in front of the first man whom Godwin had seemed to kill, and who lay face upwards with arms outstretched.

“So far we have done well,” said Wulf, with a short laugh.  “Are you hurt?”

“Nay,” answered his brother, “but do not boast till the battle is over, for many are left and they will come on thus no more.  Pray God they have no spears or bows.”

Then he turned and looked behind him, and there, far from the shore now, swam the grey horse steadily, and there upon its back sat Rosamund.  Yes, and she had seen, since the horse must swim somewhat sideways with the tide, for look, she took the kerchief from her throat and waved it to them.  Then the brethren knew that she was proud of their great deeds, and thanked the saints that they had lived to do even so much as this for her dear sake.

Godwin was right.  Although their leader commanded them in a stern voice, the band sank from the reach of those awful swords, and, instead, sought for stones to hurl at them.  But here lay more mud than pebbles, and the rocks of which the causeway was built were too heavy for them to lift, so that they found but few, which when thrown either missed the brethren or did them little hurt.  Now, after some while, the man called “master” spoke through his lieutenant, and certain of them ran into the thorn thicket, and thence appeared again bearing the long oars of the boat.

“Their counsel is to batter us down with the oars.  What shall we do now, brother?” asked Godwin.

“What we can,” answered Wulf.  “It matters little if Rosamund is spared by the waters, for they will scarcely take her now, who must loose the boat and man it after we are dead.”

As he spoke Wulf heard a sound behind him, and of a sudden Godwin threw up his arms and sank to his knees.  Round he sprang, and there upon his feet stood that man whom they had thought dead, and in his hand a bloody sword.  At him leapt Wulf, and so fierce were the blows he smote that the first severed his sword arm and the second shore through cloak and mail deep into the thief’s side; so that this time he fell, never to stir again.  Then he looked at his brother and saw that the blood was running down his face and blinding him.

“Save yourself, Wulf, for I am sped,” murmured Godwin.

“Nay, or you could not speak.”  And he cast his arm round him and kissed him on the brow.

Then a thought came into his mind, and lifting Godwin as though he were a child, he ran back to where the horses stood, and heaved him onto the saddle.

“Hold fast!” he cried, “by mane and pommel.  Keep your mind, and hold fast, and I will save you yet.”