hid it carefully away--and," she continued, blushing
slightly, "I should not like to lose it."

"You had better go with _us_," said Finn gravely.

"We will do what seems best to ourselves," replied Ada; "go on,
Christian, we follow."

The hermit advised the girls to go with Finn, but as they were
self-willed he was fain to conduct them up the steep and narrow path
that led to his hut upon the cliff, while Finn put himself at the head
of a sad band of women, children, and aged retainers, who could advance
but slowly along the rugged and intricate path which he thought it
necessary to take through the forest.

Not twenty minutes after they had left Haldorstede the first band of
King Harald's men came rushing up the banks of the river, enraged at
having found Ulfstede deserted, and thirsting for plunder. They ran
tumultuously into the house, sword in hand, and a yell of disappointment
followed when they discovered that the inmates had fled. There is no
doubt that they would have rushed out again and searched the woods, had
not the feast which Herfrida had been preparing proved too attractive.
The cold salmon and huge tankards of ale proved irresistible to the
tired and thirsty warriors, who forthwith put the goblets to their
bearded lips and quaffed the generous fluid so deeply that in a short
time many of them were reeling, and one, who seemed to be more full of
mischief than his fellows, set the house on fire by way of a joke.

It was the smoke which arose after the perpetration of this wanton act
that had attracted the attention of Haldor and his friends, when they
were making for the shore after the battle.

Of course the hermit and the two girls heard the shouts of the
marauders, and knew that it was now too late to escape along with the
baud under Finn, for the only practicable path by which they could join
them passed in full view of Haldorstede, and it was so hemmed in by a
precipice that there was no other way of getting into the wood--at least
without the certainty of being seen. Their retreat up the river was
also cut off, for the hermit, in selecting the spot for his dwelling,
had chosen a path which ascended along the rugged face of a precipice,
so that, with a precipice above and another below, it was not possible
to get to the bank of the river without returning on their track. There
was no alternative, therefore, but to ascend to the hut, and there wait
patiently until the shades of night should