The gale was raging at its highest, and thatch was flying from the exposed roofs.

It would be dead against us; and the sea was white with foam, even in the haven.

So we must go by road, and that was a long way.

But we must get back to Odda, for he should be in Wareham before the Danes learned, maybe, that their flight was too hurried.
Now it seemed to me that to leave Wareham was not so safe as to come into it, for no Dane would be going away from the place.
However, the bridge was down; and if it had not been done in too great haste, any fugitives from the country would have come in.

So that maybe we should meet no one on the road that goes along the shore of the great haven.
The fisherman ferried us over to the opposite shore, and then tied his boat to the staging of the landing place, saying that he was well known and in no danger.