On reaching port Alfred begged Edmund to continue for a while with the Dragon, to cruise along the coasts and to stop the depredations of the Danes; and for some weeks the Dragon kept the seas. She met with considerable success, capturing many Danish galleys. Some of these contained rich spoil, which had been gathered in France, for cruising in the seas off Dover Edmund intercepted many of the Danish vessels on their homeward way from raids up the Seine, Garonne, and other French rivers.
One day in the excitement of a long pursuit of a Danish galley, which finally succeeded in making her escape, Edmund had paid less attention than usual to the weather, and, on giving up the chase as hopeless, perceived that the sky had become greatly overcast, while the wind was rising rapidly.
"We are in for a storm from the north, Egbert," he said, "and we must make for the mouth of the Thames for shelter."
The sails were lowered, and the Dragon's head turned west. Before two hours had passed the sea had risen so greatly that it was no longer possible to row.
"What had we best do?" Edmund asked the chief of the sailors. "Think you that we can make Dover and shelter under the cliffs there?"
"I fear that we cannot do so," the sailor replied "for there are terrible sands and shallows off the Kentish coast between the mouth of the Thames and Dover, and the wind blows so strongly that we can do nought but run before it."
"Then let us do so," Edmund replied; "anything is better than being tossed at the mercy of the waves."
A sail was hoisted, and the Dragon flew along before the wind. The storm increased in fury, and for some hours the vessel ran before it. She was but a short distance from the French coast, and as the wind veered round more to the west her danger became great.
"I fear we shall be cast ashore," Edmund said to the sailor.
"Fortunately," the man answered, "we are but a mile or two from the mouth of the Seine, and there we can run in and take shelter."
It was an anxious time until they reached the mouth of the river, for they were continually drifting nearer and nearer to the coast. However, they cleared the point in safety, and, turning her head, ran up the river and soon anchored under the walls of Havre. As she came to an anchor armed men were seen crowding the walls.
"They take us for Danes," Egbert said. "We had best hoist the Dragon, and they will then know that we are a Saxon ship."
Soon after the flag was hoisted the gates of the town were seen to open, and an officer and some men issued out.
These launched a boat and rowed out to the ship. The officer mounted to the deck. He was evidently in considerable fear, but as he saw the Saxons standing about unarmed he was reassured. "Is this really a Saxon ship," he asked, as its flag testifies?"
"It is so," Edmund replied; "it is my vessel, and I am an ealdorman of King Alfred. We have been chasing the Danish pirates, but this storm having arisen, we were blown down the French coast and forced to seek shelter here."
"The governor bids you welcome," the officer said, "and bade me invite you to land."
"That will I gladly; the more so since my ship has suffered some damage in the gale, her bulwarks having been partly shattered; and it will need a stay of a few days here to repair her for sea. Will you tell the governor that in a short time I will land with my kinsman Egbert and accept his hospitality?"
An hour later Edmund and Egbert landed and were at once conducted to the governor, who welcomed them cordially.
They found there many whom they had known at the court of King Alfred. The wealthier men, the bishops and thanes, had for the most part journeyed to Paris or to other towns in the interior to escape the dreaded Northmen; but there were many detained at Havre from want of funds to journey farther.
"It is a sad pity," the governor said as they talked over the troubled state of Western Europe, "that your English king and our Frankish monarch did not make common cause against these sea robbers. They are the enemies of mankind.
Not only do they ravage all our coasts, but they have entered the Mediterranean, and have plundered and ravaged the coasts of Provence and Italy, laying towns under ransom, burning and destroying."
"I would that I could meet some of their ships on their way back from Italy," Edmund said. "I warrant that we should obtain a rare booty, with gems of art such as would delight King Alfred, but are thrown away on these barbarians; but I agree with you that 'tis shameful that the coasts of all Europe should be overrun with these pirates."
"Yes," the governor replied, "if every country in Christendom would unite against their common foe, and send a quota of ships and men, we would drive the Black Raven from the seas, and might even land on the Danish shores and give them a taste of the suffering they have inflicted elsewhere. As it is, all seem paralysed. Local efforts are made to resist them; but their numbers are too great to be thus withstood. I wonder that the pope does not call Christendom to arms against these pagan robbers, who not only destroy towns and villages, but level to the ground the holy shrines, and slay the ministers of God on the altars."
