at wearily. "It all depends on how the boat sails on
the wind, and if we can keep the oars going. What say you, Queen
Gerda?"

"Do as you think best," she answered bravely. "I know how this boat
can sail, and I will answer for her. And I can see no sign of a
break in these black cliffs for many a long mile ahead."

Now Bertric turned and took a long look at the ships, and his face
was half toward me. He seemed puzzled.

"It is hardly possible," he muttered to me, "but I could almost
swear that they were English. If not, they are Frisian. But what
could have brought either into these seas? Have we taken to the
Viking path?"

"No," I answered, "the Vikings have taken them."

He gave a short laugh and bade me and Phelim lower the sail and
hoist it afresh for the new tack, while he and Fergus pulled on.
Gerda put the boat about into the wind and it was soon done. Astern
the enemy howled, thinking that we had given up, for the moment.
Then the sail filled, and the boat heeled to the breeze abeam, and
we headed out to sea, taking as wide a sweep as we could, lest we
should give the foe too much advantage in the change of course.

As it was, they seemed to gain hand over hand for a while, but they
had to pull dead to windward in following us as we went off at an
angle to the old course. Then we began to draw ahead steadily, and
they hailed us with threats which made Gerda pale somewhat, for if
we were still too far for the words to be heard there was no
mistaking them. But her faith in the boat was justified, for she
sailed wonderfully well with the beam wind. The big rowing boat
astern began to go somewhat to leeward also, with the set of wind
and wave and the tide together on her high side.

Now I glanced at the island which was lessening fast astern. I
could make out that the men were still on the beach, searching, as
it seemed, for what they might pick up of value from the wreck. The
hermits were safe so far, and I told Gerda so in a word or two, and
she smiled for the first time since we put off from shore. Her fear
for our kind hosts passed from her for the moment.

We covered a mile or more in silence after that, tugging grimly at
the oars, with a wary eye on the waves as they came. It was well
for us that they were long and even, with little way in the heads
of them. The sail, too, steadied the boat, and the hermits rowed
well and evenly. But ever astern of us those ten oars rose and
fell, unfaltering, until