Griffin!’ said Searle. ‘What?’

‘He fell!’ whispered the boy. ‘He fell! One of us dies at the cathedral.’

In that moment Arno stopped his sculling, and Martin looked round in fear from his plugging of the splintered stern, and Searle straightened and threw down the bailer with a splash, and crossed swiftly to the boy and stood above him. ‘Who dies?’

‘Hand over hand,’ said Griffin, and his eyes were still black and half in dream, ‘and then — he fell-’

‘Ah,’ cried Arno, and began to scull, and wagged his stump in the air, ‘if it’s hand over hand — it’s not me!’

on’t know! It’s me isn’t it? Me! Aye, the end for me. Oh yes. I’ve watched them all picked away. My wife in childbirth — picked away. The child she died for. My mother. Then Ulf —’

‘I want Connor!’ screamed Griffin. ‘I want my brother back!’

And while Searle stood over him, his fists knotted in rage and fear. Griffin pulled from his pocket the little Celtic cross that Connor had once given him, and sat huddled in the bow, strok- ing it.

And then Arno gave an excited cry, ‘What’s that? Look! Look!’

For every yard of progress toward the shore now opened up new depths and distances within the city, and shyly into sight crept a long slim cone, which seemed to yearn heavenward even amongst the grim and overbearing towers which surrounded it on all sides . . .

Did this celestial city on the horizon behold their salvation?

The steeple!’ cried Martin.

‘The Great Church!’ croaked Arno.

And all craned to see but Griffin, for he was still combing in his mind the premonition of moments before, certain of some clue embedded there, yet not knowing what, and he saw again the hands — the gauntlet!

‘No!’ whispered the boy. For only one of their band wore gaunt- lets, and in that moment he knew that his brother did not die upon the back of the seabeast, but might yet die on the steeple, and he rose up, and yelled.

‘It’s Connor! Connor is the one who falls!’

And Griffin knew then he must fly to the steeple to save his brother, who did not know his death was foretold. And he knew that Searle’s suspicion and the waterlogged boat would only slow him, and quick as a flash he leaped for the gunwale, and dived overboard, and struck out for the shore.

Griffin sets off alone to save

his brother, but what chance does a boy have amongst men in a foriegn land?

SEE CHAPTER XVII