"Swift! follow me up the Bradwell path!" and he struck the spurs into his horse.

It bounded forward, to be dragged next second with all the weight of his powerful arm almost to its haunches.

"God's mercy!" he cried, "there are more of them!" And more there were, for another band of men armed and linen-hooded like the first, had leapt down on to that Bradwell path, amongst them a stout man, who seemed to be unarmed, except for a long, crooked knife at his girdle and a coat of ringed mail, which showed through the opening of his loose tunic.
"To the boat!" shouted Godwin, whereat the stout man laughed--a light, penetrating laugh, which even then all three of them heard and noted.
Along the quay they rode, since there was nowhere else that they could go, with both paths barred, and swamp and water on one side of them, and a steep, wooded bank upon the other.

When they reached it, they found why the man had laughed, for the boat was made fast with a strong chain that could not be cut; more, her sail and oars were gone.
"Get into it," mocked a voice; "or, at least, let the lady get in; it will save us the trouble of carrying her there." Now Rosamund turned very pale, while the face of Wulf went red and white, and he gripped his sword-hilt.

But Godwin, calm as ever, rode forward a few paces, and said quietly: "Of your courtesy, say what you need of us.