"There need be no fear of those ships, father," I said. "They are
making a passage past us--bound elsewhere at all events."
"Then," he said at once, "there lies your boat on the shore of the
open sea. Make away to the main land eastward while there is time,
and take to the hills inland. You are not likely to be followed
thither. We will give you some token which the poor folk of the
shore will know."
Now, while the hermit had been speaking, I was translating for the
other two, as was my way by this time.
"Father," cried Gerda, and I spoke her words as she said them,
"will you not fly also?"
He shook his head with a sad smile. Neither he nor any one of his
brethren would leave the place.
"We shall hide in the hill and behind it while we may," he said.
"They may not trouble to hunt us."
"The good father is right," said Bertric. "We must get away as soon
as we can. It is our one chance. I had thought of it, but was not
sure how the shore folk would greet us. Now we must hasten. Ask the
hermit to come and help us launch the boat."
Then he turned to Gerda, who stood with clasped hands waiting to
hear the end of the rapid speech.
"It is our only hope," he said again. "We must take that way,
though it is hard to leave these holy men to their fate.
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