"
Then he bent toward them, and spoke rapidly in the Latin tongue,
and I saw their faces change, and they rose up. Thereafter they had
no more to say of staying, though at the time I could not tell what
the words which wrought this change might be. Without another word
they took Bertric's arms and mine and Gerda's little pack, and
started for the shore, and as they went the old man smiled as if
content. Then he bent toward us.
"Go, my children," he said; "you have no moment to waste longer. It
has been good to speak with you."
Now I set that which he had given me in Gerda's hand. It was a
little black crucifix carven of the bog oak by one of the brothers
who was skilful at that work. She took it with a flushing face.
"Malcolm," she said, "tell him that we will not forget."
So I told him, and he smiled, saying nothing in answer. I dare say
he knew that Gerda would not do so, if he had less hopes for
myself. Gerda first, and then we two in turn, bent and kissed his
thin hand, and he blessed us, and we must needs go.
Across the sand hills we went, keeping out of sight of the opposite
shore, and I looked back once and saw that the little black-robed
group was moving away up the glen. One brother was coming from the
chapel with a burden, which, no doubt, was the case containing the
holy vessels.
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