"Row alongside of me and let me look at him. I am one of the monks myself."
"Praise be to Thor," said old Biggun, "but the gods seem determined to make up for their treatment of us last night. Easy, Wulf, and let the old boat come alongside."
Gently they glided up to the rude raft, and the monk, who had cast off his moorings, made his rope fast to their boat, and got over the side into it. They now observed that he had a few fish lying on his raft, and Wulfstan was much delighted at the sight.
"My son," said the monk, stooping over Ædric, "where is the hurt?"
"Here, in this leg," said Ædric, uncovering the skins with difficulty.
"Let me do it, my child," said the monk, gently rolling them back and exposing a large and deep wound in the fleshy part of the calf, which had now become very stiff from cold and loss of blood.
"Ah! we will soon put that right," he said, cheerfully, "if there are no bones broken. It is only about a mile to our huts, and Brother Dicoll knows what herbs soothe wounds of body, as well as of mind."
"Shall we find food there? We are all hungry, and I could eat a bit of wolf and say thank-you if you would give it me."
"There is not much, but such as we have is freely thine, for what saith holy Peter: 'Hospitales invicem sinemurmuratione.'"
"What curious words he does use, Eddie, doesn't he?" said Wulf, in an undertone, to his brother.