CHAPTER VI. HOW OSWALD HAD AN UNEASY VOYAGE AND A PERILOUS LANDING AT ITS
END.


I thought that Evan had forgotten to gag me, but before we went to
the gate of the stockade he came and did it well. I could not see a
soul near but my captors, and it would have been little or no good
to shout. So I bore it as well as I might, being helpless. Then,
within arrow shot of the gate, one of the men blew a harsh horn,
and we waited for a moment until a man, armed with an axe and
sword, lounged through the stockade and looked at us, and so made a
gesture that bid us enter, and went his way within. I hope that I
may never feel so helpless again as I did at the time when I passed
this man, who stared at me in silence, unable to call to him for
help.

Then we crossed the green without any one paying much heed to us,
though I saw the women at the doors pitying me, and so we came to
the wharf, alongside which a ship was lying. There were several men
at work on her decks, and it was plain that she was to sail on this
tide, for her red-and-brown striped sail was ready for hoisting,
and there was nothing left alongside to be stowed. She was not yet
afloat however, though the tide was fast rising.

Evan hailed one of the men, and he came ashore to him. The bearers
set down my litter and waited.

"Where is the shipmaster?" Evan asked.

The man jerked his thumb over his shoulder, and lifted his voice