"It is a matter which I have learned while on my travels," he said, when Fergus said somewhat of the sort to him gently. "I have seen these two friends, who are n.o.bles in their own lands, work as hard at oar and rope's end as they would at fighting. Moreover, it is well to do things for myself now and then--as, for instance, swimming."

Now we loaded the wagon, which was easy to put together, and the brethren harnessed themselves to it, laughing. They would not suffer us to help, and we had to walk behind the wagon in a sort of idle train, not altogether sorry to rest, for we were very weary by this time. As for the hermits, they made light of the rough way and the load, being like schoolboys let loose. I do not suppose that they had laughed thus for many a long day, and it was good to watch them.

So we came to the huts, and set down our load. Presently the brothers would bestow the things under cover, but there was no more to come. So we did but take Gerda her own chest, and have the court men's to the hut which had been given us. We bade Phelim, as guest master, take what he would of the provender as he liked, saying it was theirs altogether; and he thanked us simply, more for our own sake than theirs, as I know. They would not let us go back to the sh.o.r.e for the next load.

"Bide and rest," said Fergus; "this is a holiday for us, and we enjoy it. We shall talk of it all for many a long day; but for you it is but an added and needless weariness."

So, nothing loath, we sat on the stone blocks which were set for seats outside Gerda's hut, and watched them go with the wagon.

Presently Gerda came and asked for a little help, and I went and moved her chest for her, and hung a heavy curtain, which I have no doubt was a wrecked boat's sail once, to its stone pegs across the door. They had lit a fire for her at the first, and the cell was comfortable altogether.

"Now I shall rest," she said. "By and by, no doubt, you will bring me supper, but it is strange not to feel the tossing of the ship.

It is wonderful to be warm and in safety once more. You have been very good to me."

But I thought of her patience and cheerfulness through the countless discomforts and dangers of the voyage, and knew that the praise was hers.

"We have said truly that you are a sea-king's daughter indeed, my queen," I answered. "It is enough to hear you say that we are not useless courtmen."

We three went to our hut and took off our mail, and found dry clothing in the chest, with many thanks to the careful half-dozen warriors who had kept their best therein. Then in much comfort we saw to our arms, red with the sea rust, and hung them round the cell, which was some nine feet across and about the same height, and by the time that pleasant work was done the brothers were back, and the little bell on the chapel, where it hung in a stone cote, rang for their vespers.

They bade us come also, and Bertric and Dalfin rose up and went gladly. I had no thought that I could be welcome, and was staying, but Phelim called me.

"Malcolm is a Norse Scot," said Dalfin quietly. "He is not of our faith, and I do not know if he may come.

"If he will, he may," answered the hermit kindly. "He can be no evil heathen, seeing that he is your friend."

So, not wishing to seem ungracious, I followed them into the chapel, which was stone built after the same manner as the cells, but with a ridge roof instead of the rounded top, and much larger, being about fifteen feet long and ten wide. Over the door was a cross of white stones set in the wall, and at the eastern end was a cross also, and an altar, on which were candles of wax, at which I wondered, seeing them in this place. Round the walls ran a stone slab as bench, but I was the only one who used it. The others knelt, facing eastward, and I, at a sign from Bertric, sat by the door, wondering what I should see and hear.

There was enough for me to wonder at. I heard them pray, and I heard them sing, and whether of prayer or song the words were good to listen to. I heard them pray for the safety of men at sea in the gale, and for men who fought with the Danes ash.o.r.e. They prayed that the hands of the Danes who slew their brethren in the churches round the coast wantonly might be stayed from these doings; but they did not pray for the destruction of these terrible foes. They asked that they might be forgiven for the wrong they did to harmless men. And I heard them read from a book whose leaves, as the reader turned them, I saw were bright with gold and colours, words that I cannot set down--words of uttermost peace in the midst of strife. I had never heard or thought the like. I did not know that it could be in the minds of men so to speak and write. I thought that I would ask Phelim more concerning it at some time if I had the chance.

The brethren rose up with still faces and happy, and the vespers were over. We went out into the wind again, and across to the cell they had given us, and there they gave us a supper of barley bread and milk, setting aside some for Gerda in a beautiful silver bowl, which Phelim said had come from the sh.o.r.e after a wreck long ago.

Now, we three had some thought that one of us had better watch through the night, if only for Gerda's comfort. But Phelim heard us speak thereof, and laughed.

"My sons," he said, "there is naught to watch against in all this little island, save only the ghostly foe, against whom your arms were of no avail. Nay, do you sleep in peace. All the night long we watch in turns in the chapel, and will wake you, if by some strange chance there is need."

"What do you watch against then, father?" I asked, somewhat idly.

"Wolves round your folds?"

"Aye," he answered; "the wolf of all wolves."

"Ah, the wolf will come from the mainland, betimes, I suppose."

"Most of all we fear him thence," Phelim answered, with a quaint smile. "Nay, my son, it is no earthly wolf we watch against.

Hereafter you may learn, or the prince will tell you even now, if you will. Rest in peace."

He lifted his hand and blessed us, even as he had done when he met us on the sh.o.r.e, and left us. They had brought fresh heather for our bedding while we ate, and blankets, and though the light still lingered in the west, we did not wait for darkness. We slept, as shipwrecked men will sleep, when at last others watch for them.

Chapter 10: Planning And Learning.

Twelve good hours I slept that night without stirring, and woke feeling like a new man and fit for aught. The first thing I noticed was the strange calm which brooded over all things, for the wind had gone down, and the long, steady roar of the surf was far off and all unlike the ceaseless rush and countless noises of the labouring ship at sea. There came a little drone of chanting from the chapel a hundred yards away, and there was now and again the bleat of a sheep, and the homely crow of the c.o.c.ks, sounding as if shut up somewhere still. For a time I stayed, enjoying the unwonted calm, and then the sunlight crept into the little window, and I rose, and went out. My two comrades still slept.

It was a wonderful morning after the storm. The coast of the mainland across the narrow strait seemed close at hand, piled with great, soft, green mountains above the black cliffs, tier after tier of them stretching inland as far as the eye could see. In the valleys between them nestled forests, dark and deep, and in one place I saw the thin lines of smoke rising, which told of houses.

The hill which made the best part of this island barred my view to the westward, but it was not high enough to hide the mountain tops on the mainland altogether. There was a fire lighted on it this morning as if it might be a beacon. I minded that Phelim had said that they would call the fishers from the mainland to come over for us when they might venture, and I supposed that this was their signal.

I looked across, past the tall, black cross to where Gerda's hut stood, and it was as I had last seen it. The folds of the curtain at the door had not been moved, and Phelim's crook stood where he set it. The pigs were shut up somewhere even yet. Then the bell on the roof of the little chapel rang once or twice, and I went near.

But this morning there was a closed door before me, the only door in all the place. I know now that it was the hour of the morning ma.s.s, but wondered at the time why the door was closed and why the bell rang.

My going out woke Bertric, and he joined me, saying, half to himself, that he should have been in time for the service. He, too, looked all the better for the rest, and I dare say that the help of the comb, which Fergus lent us in sheer compa.s.sion overnight, had worked no small change in that direction.

We wandered down to the sh.o.r.e and looked at the wreck. The ship had broken up in the night, and nothing but her gaunt ribs stood in a deep pool on the wet sands. On the beach at our feet lay the gilded and green dragon's head from her stem, and all along were strewn oars and planking, and the like. It was pitiful enough. But the brothers had toiled till light failed them, for they had saved the other boat and the sledges, and also the sail, together with smaller things, among which was the cauldron of our first meals, which was a treasure to them. Inside it, on the sand hill, was the little silver cup from the penthouse, too, and the empty wine pitcher lay hard by.

"There are men who would pray for a wreck like this every week,"

said Bertric, with a short laugh. "But it will be all that we can do to get these good men to keep what they have saved, even if the things are of any use to them. They need little and covet naught."

Presently he heaved a great sigh, and half turned from the sea, as if impatient.

"As good a little ship as ever was framed," he said. "And to come to such an end. Mishandled on a lee sh.o.r.e."

"Why, there is no blame to us," I said. "We were helpless."

"It lies heavy on my mind that we ought to have weathered the point yonder; I held on too long. At best I knew where she was strained, and should have gone on the other tack first. And the canvas we got on her! We might have done better than that."

"It did not seem so at the time," I answered, laughing. "It is easy to think now of what might have been done."

"So it is. But for all my days I shall feel it in my bones that I threw the ship away. I shall dream that I am weathering the island.

Two ships I have lost running."

"One by war and the other by sheer misfortune," I answered. "You make too much of it altogether."

He laughed ruefully. "Well, think what a voyage we might have had if we had chanced to pick up a crew."

"It was your own doing that Heidrek did not pick us up," I said.

"Maybe that thought will comfort you somewhat."

"I was never glad of a fog before," he answered.

And there that matter ended, for now we had wandered to a place whence we could see the strait between us and the mainland, which we must cross presently.

That was not yet possible, for here the currents, as the tide rose and swirled round either end of the island, were like a mill race, while the heavy sea which still beat on the sh.o.r.e made the turmoil still wilder as it set across the narrow opening.

"Here we have to bide till that mends," said Bertric. "We must make the best of it, for a day or two. Maybe it matters little, for Gerda needs rest. And Dalfin will sleep till midday if we let him.

He is worn out."

"He was full of all that would happen when we came as honoured guests to his father's place, as we talked last evening," I said.

"That all sounds well enough for a time. But thereafter--what are our plans to be?"