"
Then, of a sudden, a light came into Gerda's eyes, and she flushed
as with a fresh hope.
"Those other ships!" she cried. "You said they were not Danish.
Norse or Irish, they would help us, if we could reach them!"
Bertric said never a word, but ran to the place whence he could
look out to sea, and came back with a brighter face.
"They are not Danish," he said. "I am sure thereof. And it is just
a chance that we might reach them. If they see we are in need,
there is another hope for us, for they will meet us, or heave to
for us."
Then some fear took hold of Gerda, born of the chase by Heidrek, as
I believe.
"No," she said, "rather the poor folk ashore than chance what men
we may meet at sea."
"As you will," answered Bertric. "You may be right. Now will you
gather what you must needs take, and that swiftly? Malcolm and I
will get our arms."
She went to her cell, and Fergus hurried to call his brethren. We
two went to the cell which had been given us.
"Just as well not to put them on," I said. "We have a long pull
before us, and if armed men are seen in the boat we must be
chased."
The casket of gold was under the heather pillow of my bed, and I
dragged it out. From it we took what we could stow away on us in
one way or another, and then, with our war gear bundled in our
arms, went out.
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