The fugitive tenants and small freeholders who looked to the eorldoman for protection had all returned to their homes, and things round Binbrygge-ea and Brædynge looked much as they did before the late exciting events.
The stockade was visited, and the dead all buried, care being taken to honour the defenders with a specially large tumulus high up over Binbrygge Down.
Malachi longed for news of Father Dicoll and brother Corman. He had heard of the adventure on the mud from Ædric, and was horror-stricken at the account he gave of what he had last seen of Father Dicoll, but was cheered by hearing that Ædric had since heard how Father Dicoll was taken into one of the cottages, and had been carefully attended to, and was probably by now quite well again.
Ædric had been told of his father's existence the day after he arrived. At first he could hardly believe the news, so joyful did it seem; but when he fully realised it, he only waited to know exactly where he was concealed, and then went off as fast as his lame leg would let him, in spite of all remonstrances, to find his father.
Fortunately he was met by one of his old servants, who was leading back a cow that had strayed away from the rest of the cattle, and thus he was able to have a ride; for the old cowherd, seeing how lame his young master was, lifted him up, and set him on the broad back of the patient beast, and he soon reached the secluded dell overlooking the sea under the great white cliff where his father was lying hid. The boy stole down softly to the side of the little wattled shelter that had been made for the wounded eorldoman, down close to the shore under a high pinnacle of red, sandy cliff, which here forms a striking contrast with the dazzling white of the lofty chalk precipice on the westward side of the tiny bay. The little cabin was difficult to find; it lay in a retired chine, and was carefully hollowed out of the soft sand under the over-arching shelter of thick bramble bushes and tall ferns. The perpetual sound of the breaking sea at the foot of the cliffs deadened any sound of voices.
Ædric approached quite close to the entrance: all was silent; he peeped in. There lay his father, pale and worn, his eyes closed; he appeared to be dying. Ædric stole in on tip-toe. His father moved; his eyes opened.
"Father!" said Ædric. The wounded eorl looked round.
"What, Wulfstan, my boy, is it thou? How goes the battle?"
"Father, it isn't Wulfstan: it is I—Ædric."
"What, Ædric! my son! Am I dreaming. How did'st thou get here?" and the father stretched out his hand for his son to come nearer.