brought in by country peasants and farmers, of the doings of bands of
soldiers.

Cnut and Cuthbert proceeded along the streets unmolested for some
distance. Occasionally a solitary passer-by, with hooded cape, hurried
past. The moon was half full, and her light was welcome indeed, for in
those days the streets were unlighted, and the pavement so bad that
passage through the streets after dark was a matter of difficulty, and
even of danger.

Here and there before some roadside shrine a lamp dimly burned; before
these they paused, and, as good Catholics, Cnut and Cuthbert crossed
themselves. Just as they had passed one of these wayside shrines, a
sudden shout was heard, and a party of eight or ten men sprang out from a
side street and fell upon them.

Cnut and Cuthbert drew their swords and laid about them heartily, but
their assailants were too strong. Cnut was stricken to the ground, and
Cuthbert, seeing that defence was hopeless, took to his heels and ran for
his life. He was already wounded, but happily not so severely as in any
way to disable him.

Seeing that it was speed, and speed alone, which now could save him, he
flung aside his belt scabbard and as he ran, and with rapid steps flew
along the streets, not knowing whither he went, and striving only to keep
ahead of his pursuers. They, more encumbered by arms and armour, were
unable to keep up with the flying footsteps of a lad clothed in the light
attire of a page; but Cuthbert felt that the blood running from his wound
was weakening him fast, and that unless he could gain some refuge his
course must speedily come to an end. Happily he saw at some little