His flesh was wasted off his bones , his hair was patched with white , and his hand was blue-veined like a woman 's . He put his left arm round my neck and whispered , `` Take my sword . It has been thine since Hastings , O my brother , but I can never hold hilt again . '' We lay there on the high deck talking of Santlache , and , I think , of every day since Santlache , and it came so that we both wept . I was weak , and he little more than a shadow . ' `` Nay -- nay , '' said Witta , at the helm-rail . `` Gold is a good right arm to any man . Look -- look at the gold ! '' He bade Thorkild show us the gold and the elephants ' teeth , as though we had been children . He had brought away all the gold on the bank , and twice as much more , that the people of the village gave him for slaying the Devils . They worshipped us as Gods , Thorkild told me : it was one of their old women healed up Hugh 's poor arm . ' ` How much gold did you get ? ` asked Dan . ` How can I say ? Where we came out with wedges of iron under the rowers ' feet we returned with wedges of gold hidden beneath planks . There was dust of gold in packages where we slept and along the side , and crosswise under the benches we lashed the blackened elephants ' teeth . ' `` I had sooner have my right arm , '' said Hugh , when he had seen all . ' `` Ahai ! That was my fault , '' said Witta . `` I should have taken ransom and landed you in France when first you came aboard , ten months ago . '' '
`` It is over-late now , '' said XXXXX , laughing .
Ahai Devils France Hastings Hugh Thorkild Witta first helm-rail left