So the boat came in, the Abbot waved; the sail fell, and the men beached their bark, then got out into the water and drew it by main strength up on the sand, amid the Abbot’s joyful greetings.
‘Hallo, hallo, stout fellows, Wiglaf and Ethelwulf, welcome back to safe harbour! May God be praised that you’ve got back out of this weather! We should do well all three to kneel down on the spot and sing his praise. You see your Abbot has felt such bitter concern that he has struggled down through storm and rain. How are you? Have you any fish?’
‘Hey, Master Abbot, all’s well,’ they answered. ‘Fish? Nay, that’s a lytel bit mickle to ask. We can talk of luck, that the fish not got us, that were a gale, lord, an’ wer’ coups de vent, de master can make no notion of it. One man got to draen the sea o
