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Updated: May 10, 2025
It was late evening when we went back. And in the road where it winds between the river and the hill before one comes into Bures street waited Rani and some men with news. The Danes had come from Colchester, and already their watch fires were burning along the heath some four miles to eastward of us.
"Geirmund is the man over whom I fell at your feet at Leavenheath fight. You yourself have made an end of him. I wonder that you knew it not." So I went back to Bures, and there is no need to say how my poor folk rejoiced. But Ailwin was not there, nor had Gunnhild been seen. The young priest was there yet, and well loved. Then I said to myself: "Let things bide for a while.
"I must see Eadmund, our atheling, on king's business," I said gently, remembering how I should have felt when on the same duty, if one had come thus. "He may not be waked," the boy said. Then I spoke loudly, so as to end the business without troubling these faithful guards. "I am Redwald of Bures. I think that Eadmund will see me." "Hush! hush! thane," the boy said.
"Maybe that was enough to put her familiar into a good temper," said Relf, and was satisfied that the common saying was true. Then I minded a small black cat that belonged to our leech at Bures in the old days. It would let none come near it but its master. Yet I have many times seen it perched on the shoulder of the town witch, and she hated the leech sorely.
One went inside the castle walls to find almost a village of buildings, all of timber, that had grown up round the hall that stood in the midst, and that had its courtyard and stockading, as had our own house on the open hill at Bures. I think there was no stronger place than this castle of Pevensea in all Sussex, if anywhere on the southern coasts.
"There are many places here where one might hide well enough," she said thoughtfully. "I suppose her people could find the like in your country. But it would be a dull life enough." Then I told her of Gunnhild the nurse and her wisdom, and said that none knew the land around Bures better than she, while she had friends everywhere.
Maybe they have troubled the good abbess already more than enough, for she brought her to me." "Whose daughter was she?" I asked. "Maybe I heard, but I have forgotten," he said. "The abbess knows. I saw not her folk, for the sisters brought her with them with my consent." So I went back to Bures well content with all but one thing, and that was what troubled me more than enough.
"Redwald is an Anglian name," said Godwine, taking my hand. "Are you English therefore?" "Aye, young sir, from East Anglian Bures, in Suffolk," I answered. "Are you Edric Streone's man then?" he said, dropping my hand suddenly and half stepping back. "I am not," I said pretty stoutly, for I was angry with Streone's way with Olaf and with other ways of his. "Ulfkytel is our earl."
In the following survey of these fire-customs I follow chiefly W. Mannhardt, Der Baumkultus, kap. vi. pp. 497 sqq. The Scapegoat, pp. 316 sqq. For the loan of this work I am indebted to Mrs. Wherry of St. Peter's Terrace, Cambridge. É. Hublard, op. cit. pp. 27 sq. The local name for these bonfires is bures. In Bresse the custom was similar.
That's the old Pinckney pew, belonged to Bures other people sit there now. This is our pew Vernons. The Mascarenes had it in the old days, of course." Phyl looked at the pew where Juliet Mascarene had sat often enough, no doubt, whilst the preacher had preached on the vanity of life, on the delusions of the world and the shortness of Time. Many an eloquent divine had stood in the pulpit of St.
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