Some were getting
the women and children into boats, to hide them in the reeds. Others
battering the minster gates, vowing vengeance on the monks.
"Then Ranald will be cut off! Alas for the day that ever brought his brave
heart hither!"
And when the men heard that, a yell of fury and despair burst from all
throats.
Should they go back to their boats?
"No! onward," cried Hereward. "Revenge first, and safety after. Let us
leave nothing for the accursed Frenchmen but smoking ruins, and then
gather our comrades, and cut our way back to the north."
"Good counsel," cried Winter. "We know the roads, and they do not; and in
such a dark night as is coming, we can march out of the island without
their being able to follow us a mile."
They hurried on; but stopped once more, at the galloping of another horse.
"Who comes, friend or foe?"
"Alwyn, son of Orgar!" cried a voice under breath. "Don't make such a
noise, men! The French are within half a mile of you."
"Then one traitor monk shall die ere I retreat," cried Hereward, seizing
him by the throat.
"For Heaven's sake, hold!" cried Torfrida, seizing his arm. "You know not
what he may have to say."
"I am no traitor, Hereward; I have fought by your side as well as the
best; and if any but you had called Alwyn--"
"A curse on your boasting.
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