 Chapter 7 of The Treasurer by Selma Lagerlöf This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Reading by Lars Rolander. The treasure by Selma Lagerlöf, translated from the Swedish by her authority, Chater. Chapter 7, Unrest Next day the storm had ceased. The weather was now milder, but it had caused little shrinking of the ice, and the sea was closed as fast as ever. When El-Salil awoke in the morning, she thought, It is surely better that a wicked man repent and live according to God's commandments, than that he be punished with death. That day Sarachi sent a messenger to El-Salil, and he brought her a heavy armlet of gold. And El-Salil was glad that Sarachi had thought of giving her pleasure, and she thanked the messenger and accepted the gift. But when he was gone, she felt of thinking that this armlet had been bought for her with her earnest money. When she thought of this, she could not endure to look on it. She plucked it from her arm and threw it far away. What will my life be if I must always call to mind that I am living on her earnest money, she thought? If I put a mouthful of food to my lips, must I not think of the stolen money? And if I have a new gown, will it not ring in my ears that it is bought with ill-gotten gold? Now at last I see that it is impossible for me to go with Sarachi and join my life to his. I shall tell him this when he comes. When evening was drawing on, Sarachi came to her. He was in cheerful mood. He had not been plagued with evil thoughts, and he believed it was owing to his promise to make good to one maiden the wrong he had done another. When El-Salil saw him and heard him speak, she could not bring herself to tell him that she was sad at heart and would part from him. All the sorrows which ignored at her were forgotten as she sat listening to Sarachi. The next day was a Sunday, and El-Salil went to church. She was there both in the morning and in the evening. As she sat during the morning service listening to the sermon, she heard someone weeping and sobbing close by. She thought it was one of those who sat beside her in the pew, but whether she looked to right or left, she saw none but calm and devout worshipers. Nevertheless, she plainly heard a sound of weeping, and it seemed so near to her that she might have touched the one who wept by putting out her hand. El-Salil sat listening to the sighing and sobbing, and thought to herself that she had never heard so sorrowful a sound. Who is it that is afflicted with such deep grief that she must shed these bitter tears? thought El-Salil. She looked behind her, and she leaned forward over the next pew to see, but all were sitting in silence, and no face was wet with tears. Then El-Salil thought there was no need to ask or wonder, for indeed she had known from the first who it was that wept beside her. Dear sister! she whispered, Why do you not show yourself to me as you did but lately, for you must know that I would gladly do all I may to dry your tears. She listened for an answer, but none came. All she heard was the sobbing of the dead girl beside her. El-Salil tried to hearken to what the preacher was saying in the pulpit, but she could follow little of it, and she grew impatient and whispered, I know one who has more cause to weep than any, and that is myself. Had not my foster sister revealed her murder to me, I might have sat here with a heart full of joy. As she listened to the weeping she became more and more resentful, so that she thought, How can my dead foster sister require of me that I shall betray the man I love? Never would she herself have done such a thing if she had lived. She was shut up in the pew, but she could scarcely sit still. She rocked backward and forward and wrung her hands. Now this will follow me all day, she thought. Who knows she went on growing more and more anxious. Who knows whether it will not follow me through life. But the sobbing beside her grew ever deeper and sadder, and at last her heart was touched in spite of herself, and she too began to weep. She who weeps so must have a terrible heavy grief, she thought. She must have to bear suffering heavier than any of the living can conceive. When the service was over and El-Salil had come out of church, she heard the sobbing no longer. But all the way home she wept herself, because her foster sister could find no peace in her grave. When the time of even song came, El-Salil went again to the church, being constrained to know whether her foster sister still sat there weeping. And as soon as El-Salil entered the church, she heard her, and her soul trembled within her when she caught the sound of the sobbing. She felt her strength forsaking her, and she had but one desire, to help the dead girl who was wandering among the living, and knew no rest. When El-Salil came out of church, it was still light enough for her to see that one of those who walked before her left bloody footprints in the snow. Who can it be so poor that he goes barefoot and leaves bloody footprints in the snow, she thought? All those who walked before her seemed to be well to do for, they were neatly dressed and well shot. But the red footprints were not old, El-Salil could see they were made by one of the group that walked before her. It is someone who is foot sore from a long journey, she thought. God grant he may not have far to go ere he find shelter and rest. She had a strong desire to know who it was that had made this weary pilgrimage, and she followed the footprints, though they led her away from her home. But suddenly she saw that all the church-goers had gone another way, and that she was alone in the street. Nevertheless the blood-red footprints were there as plain as before. It is my poor foster sister who is going before me, she thought, and she owned herself that she had guessed it all the time. Alas, my poor foster sister, I thought you went so lightly upon earth that your feet did not touch the ground, but none among the living can know how painful your pilgrimage must be. The tears started to arise, and she sighed. Could she but find peace in her grave? Woe is me that she must wander here so long till she has worn her feet to bleeding. Stay, my dear foster sister, she cried, stay that I may speak to you. But as she cried thus she saw that the footprints fell yet faster in the snow, as though the dead girl was hastening her steps. Now she flies from me. She looks no more for help from me, said El-Salil. The bloody footprints made her quite frantic, and she cried out, My dear foster sister, I will do all you ask if only you may find rest in your grave. So soon as El-Salil had uttered these words, a tall, big woman who had followed her came up and laid a hand on her arm. Who may you be crying and wringing your hands here in the street? the woman asked. You called to mind a little maid who came to me on Friday, looking for a place and then ran away from me, or perhaps you are the same. No, I am not the same, said El-Salil, but if as I think you are the hostess of the town-sellers, then I know what maid it is you speak of. Then can you tell me why she took herself off and has not come back? said the hostess. She left you, said El-Salil, because she did not choose to hear the talk of all the evil doers who gather in your tavern. Many a wild companion comes to my tavern, said the hostess, but among them are no evil doers. Yet the maid heard three that sat there talking among themselves, said El-Salil, and one of them said, Drink, brother, her earnest horde is not yet done. When El-Salil had said these words, she thought, Now I have helped my foster sister and told what I heard. Now may God help me that this woman pay no heed to my words, so I shall be quit. But when she saw in the hostess's face that she believed her, she was afraid and would have run away. But before she had time to move, the hostess's heavy hand had taken firm hold of her so that she could not escape. If you can witness that such words have been uttered in my tavern, mistress, said the hostess, Then you were best not to run away, for you must go with me to those who have the power to cease the murders and bring them to justice. Please visit LibriVox.org Reading by Lars Rolander The Treasure by Selma Lagerlö Translated from the Swedish by Arthur D. Chater Chapter 8 Sir Archie's Flight El-Salil came into the tavern wrapped in her long cloak and went straight to a table where Sir Archie sat drinking with his friends. A crowd of customers sat about the tables in the cellar, but El-Salil took no heed of all the wandering lances that followed her as she went and sat down beside the man she loved. Her only thought was to be with Sir Archie in the few moments of freedom which were left to him. When Sir Archie saw El-Salil come and sit by him, he rose and moved with her to a table that stood far down the room, hidden by a pillar. She could see that he was displeased at her coming to meet him in a place where it was not the custom for young maids to show themselves. I have no long message to bring you, Sir Archie, said El-Salil, but I would have you know that I cannot go with you to your own country. When Sir Archie heard El-Salil speak thus he was in despair, since he feared that if he lost El-Salil the evil thoughts would again take possession of him. Why will you not go with me, El-Salil? he asked. El-Salil was as pale as death. Her thoughts were so confused that she scarce knew what answer she made him. It is a perilous thing to follow a soldier of fortune, she said, for none can tell whether such a man will keep his plighted troth. Before Sir Archie had time to answer, a sailor came into the tavern. He went up to Sir Archie and told him he was sent by the skipper of the great Galleus which lay in the ice behind Cleverer. The skipper prayed Sir Archie and all his men to make ready their goods and come aboard that evening. The storm had sprung up again and the sea was clearing far away to the westward. It might well be that before daybreak they would have opened water and could sail for Scotland. You hear what this man says, said Sir Archie to El-Salil. Will you come with me? No, said El-Salil. I will not go with you. But in her heart she was very glad, for she thought. Now I believe it will turn out so that he may escape ere the watch can come and seize him. Sir Archie rose and went over to Sir Philip and Sir Reginald and spoke to them of the message. Get you back to the inn before me, he said, and make all ready. I have a word or two yet to say to El-Salil. When El-Salil saw that Sir Archie was coming back to her, she weighed her hands as though to prevent him. Why do you come back, Sir Archie? She said. Why do you not hasten down to the sea as fast as your feet may carry you? For such was her love for Sir Archie. She had indeed betrayed him for her dear foster sister's sake, but her most fervent wish was that he might escape. No, first I will beg you once more to come with me, said Sir Archie. But you know, Sir Archie, that I cannot come with you, said El-Salil. Why can you not, said Sir Archie? You are a poor orphan, so forlorn and friendless, that none will care what becomes of you. But if you come with me, I will make you a noble lady. I am a powerful man in my own country. You shall be clad in silk and gold, and you shall tread a measure at the king's court. El-Salil was shaking with alarm at his delaying while flight was still open to him. She could scarce calm herself to answer. Go hence, Sir Archie, you must hurry no longer to impotune me. There is something I would say to you, El-Salil, said Sir Archie, and his voice became more tender as he spoke. When I first saw you, my only thought was of tempting and beguilling you. In the beginning I promised your riches in jest, but since two nights ago I have meant honestly by you. And now it is my purpose and desire to make you my wife. You may trust in me, as I am a gentleman and a soldier. At that moment El-Salil heard the march of armed men in the square outside. If I go with him now, she thought, he may yet escape. If I refuse, I drive him to destruction. It is for my sake it tarries here so long that the watch will lay hands on him. But how can I go with a man who has murdered all my dear ones? Sir Archie, said El-Salil, and she hoped her words might startle him. Do you not hear the tramp of armed men in the square? Oh yes, I hear it, said Sir Archie. There has been some alehouse prowl, I doubt not. I did not fright you, El-Salil. It is but some fishermen that have come to cloverclothes over their cups. Sir Archie, said El-Salil, do you not hear them stand before the town hall? El-Salil was trembling from head to foot. But Sir Archie took no note of it. He was quite calm. Where else would you have them stand, said Sir Archie. I must bring the brawlers here to lay them by the heels in the watch house. Listen not to them, El-Salil, but to me who ask you to follow me over the sea. But El-Salil tried once more to put fear into Sir Archie. Sir Archie, she said, do you not hear the watch coming down the steps to the cellar? Oh yes, I hear them, said Sir Archie. They will come here to empty pot of ale, since their prisoners are safe under lock and key. Think not of them, El-Salil, but think how tomorrow you and I will be sailing the wide sea to my dear native land. But El-Salil was pale as a corpse, and she shook so that she could scare speak. Sir Archie, she said, do you not see them speaking with the hostess yonder at the bar? They are asking her whether any of those they seek is within. I'll wager they are charging her to brew them a warm strong drink this stormy night, said Sir Archie. You need not quake and tremble so mightily, El-Salil. You can follow me without fear. I tell you that if my father would have me wed the noblest damsel in our land, I should now say her nay. Come with me over the sea in full security, El-Salil. Nothing awaits you there but joy and happiness. More and more the pikemen had collected about the door, and El-Salil was now beside herself with terror. I cannot look on while they come and see him, she thought. She leaned towards Sir Archie and whispered to him, do you not hear Sir Archie? They are asking the hostess whether any of her honest murders is here within. Then Sir Archie threw a glance across the room and looked at the pikemen who were speaking with the hostess. But he did not rise and fly as El-Salil had expected. He bent down and looked deeply into her eyes. Is it you, El-Salil, who have discovered and betrayed me? He asked. I have done it for my dear foster sister's sake that she might have peace in her grave, said El-Salil. God knows what it has cost me to do it, but now fly, Sir Archie. There is yet time. They have not yet buried all doors and lobbies. You wolf's cub, said Sir Archie, when first I saw you on the K I thought I ought to kill you. But El-Salil laid her hand on his arm. Fly, Sir Archie. I cannot sit still and see them come and take you. If you will not fly without me, then in God's name I will go with you. But do not stay longer here for my sake, Sir Archie. I will do all you ask of me if only you will save your life. But now Sir Archie was very angry and he spoke scornfully to El-Salil. Now, mistress, you shall never go in gold embroidered shoes through lofty castle halls. Now you may stay in mustrand all your days and gut herrings. Never shall you wed a man who has castle and lands, El-Salil. Your man shall be a poor fisherman and you're dwelling a cabin on a cold rock. Do you not hear them setting guards before all the doors to bar the way with their pikes? Asked El-Salil, why do you not hasten hence? Why do you not fly out upon the ice and hide yourself in a ship? I do not fly because I have a mind to sit and talk with El-Salil, said Sir Archie. Are you thinking that now there is an end of all your joy, El-Salil? Are you thinking that now there is an end of my hope of atoning for my crime? Sir Archie, whispered El-Salil, rising from her seat in her terror. Now the men are all posted. Now they will catch and cease you. Make haste and fly. I shall come out to your ship, Sir Archie, if only you will fly. You need not be so frightened, El-Salil, said Sir Archie. We have some time left to talk together. These fellows have no stomach to set upon me here where I can defend myself. They mean to take me in the narrow stair. They think to spit me on their long pikes. And that is what you have always wished me, El-Salil. But the more her terror gained on El-Salil, the calmer became Sir Archie. She never ceased praying him to fly, but he laughed at her. You need not be so sure, mistress, that these fellows can take me. I have come through greater dangers than this. I warrant I was harder put to it some months since in Sweden. Some slanderers had told King John that his scotsguard was disloyal to him, and the king believed them. He threw the three commanders into dungeon and sent their men out of his realm, and had them guarded till they had passed the border. Fly, Sir Archie, fly! Beg El-Salil. You need not be troubled for me, El-Salil, said Sir Archie with a hard laugh. This evening I myself again, my old tumourists, come back. I see no more the young maid that haunted me, and I shall hold my own, never fear. I will tell you of those three who lay in King John's dungeon. They stole out of the tower one night when their guards were drowsy with liquor, and ran their ways, and then they fled to the border. But so long as they were in the Swedish king's land, they durched not betray themselves. They had no choice El-Salil but to make themselves rough coats of skin, and give out that they were journeymen-tanners travelling the country in search of work. Now El-Salil began to mark how changed Sir Archie was toward her, and she knew he hated her, since she had found out that she had betrayed him. Speak not so, Sir Archie, said El-Salil. Why should you play me false, just when I trusted you most, said Sir Archie. Now I am again the man I was. Now none shall find me merciful, and now you will see. Fortune will favour me as she has done hitherto. Were we not in bad case I and my comrades, when at last we had walked through all Sweden and come down to the coast here? We had no money to buy us honourable clothes. We had no money to pay for our shipping to Scotland. We knew no remedy but to break into Sulbaria parsonage. Speak no more of that, said El-Salil. Yes, now you must hear all, El-Salil, said Sir Archie. There is one thing you know not, and it is that when first we came into the house, we went to her arna, roused him, and told him he must give us money. If he gave it freely, we would not harm him, but her arna resisted us with force, and so we had to strike him down, and when we had dispatched him, we had to make an end of all his household. El-Salil interrupted Sir Archie no more, but her heart felt cold and empty. She shuddered as she looked upon Sir Archie, for as he spoke, a cruel and bloodthirsty look came over him. What was I about to do, she thought? Have I been mad and loved the man who murdered all my dear ones? God forgive my sin. When we thought all were dead, said Sir Archie, we dragged the heavy money chest out of the house. Then we set fire about it that men might think her arna had been burnt alive. I have loved a wolf of the woods, said El-Salil to herself, and him I have tried to save from justice. But we drew down to the ice and fled to sea, Sir Archie went on. We had no fear so long as we saw the flames mounting to the sky. But when we saw them die down, we took alarm. We knew then that neighbors had come and put out the fire, and that we should be pursued. So we drew back toward land, for we had seen the outlet of a stream where the ice was thin. We lifted the chest from the sledge and drove forward till the ice broke under the horse's hooves. Then we let it drown and sprang off to one side. If you were awed but a little made El-Salil, you will see that this was bravely done. We acquitted ourselves like men. El-Salil kept still. She felt a sharp pain tearing at her heart. But Sir Archie hated her and delighted to torment her. Then we took our belts and fastened them to the chest and began to draw it. But as the chest left tracks in the ice, we went ashore and gathered twigs of spruce and laid them under the chest. Then we took off our boots and went over the ice without leaving a trace behind us. Sir Archie paused to throw a scornful glance at El-Salil. Although we had prospered in all this, we were yet in bad case. Wherever we went our bloodstained clothes would betray us and we should be seized. But now listen, El-Salil, so that you may tell all those who would be at the pains to give us chase, that they may understand we are not of a sort to be lightly taken. Listen to this. As we came over the ice toward Mastrand here, we met our comrades and countrymen who had been banished by King John from his land. They had not been able to leave Mastrand because of the ice and they helped us in our need so that we got close. Since then we have gone about here in Mastrand and been in no danger and no danger would threaten us now if you had not been faithless and played me false. El-Salil sat still. This was too great a grief for her. She could scarce feel her heart beating. But Sir Archie sprang up and cried and no ill shall befall us tonight either. Of that you shall be witness El-Salil. In an instant he seized El-Salil both his arms and raised her off her feet and with El-Salil before him as a shield Sir Archie ran through the tavern to the doorway and the men who were posted to guard the door levelled their longpikes at him but they durst not use them for fear of hurting El-Salil. When Sir Archie reached the narrow stair and the lobby he held El-Salil before him in the same way and she protected him better than the strongest armour for the pikemen who were drawn up there could make no use of their weapons. Thus he came a good way up the steps and El-Salil could feel the free air of heaven blowing about her. But El-Salil's love for Sir Archie was changed to the most deadly hatred and her only thought was that he was a villain and a murderer. And when she saw that her body shielded him so that he was likely to escape she stretched out her hand and took hold of one of the watchmen's pikes and aimed it at her heart. Now I will serve my foster sister so that her mission shall be fulfilled at last thought El-Salil. And at the next step Sir Archie took up the stairs the pike entered El-Salil's heart but then Sir Archie was already at the top of the stairway and the pikemen fell back when they saw that one of them had hurt the maid and he ran past them. When Sir Archie came out into the marketplace he heard a Scottish war cry from one of the lanes A rescue, a rescue for Scotland, for Scotland! It was Sir Philip and Sir Reginald who had mustered the Scots and now came to relieve him. And Sir Archie ran toward them and cried in a loud voice Hither to me for Scotland, for Scotland! End of Chapter 8 of The Treasure by Selma Lagerlöp Read by Lars Rolander Chapter 9 of The Treasure by Selma Lagerlöp This is a LibriVox recording or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org reading by Lars Rolander The Treasure by Selma Lagerlöp translated from the Swedish by author G. Chaiter Chapter 9 Over the Ice As Sir Archie walked out over the ice he still held El-Salil on his arm. Sir Philip and Sir Reginald walked beside him. They tried to tell him how they had discovered the trap laid for them how they had succeeded in getting the heavy treasure chest away to the Galleus and in collecting their countrymen. But Sir Archie paid no heed to their words. He seemed to be conversing with her he carried on his arm. Who is it that you carry there? asked Sir Reginald. It is El-Salil, answered Sir Archie. I shall take her with me to Scotland. I will not leave her behind. Here she would never be ought but a poor fish wench. No, that is like enough, said Sir Reginald. Here none would give her clothes but of the coarsest wool, said Sir Archie, and a narrow bed of hard planks to sleep on. But I shall spread her couch with the softest cushions and a resting place shall be made of marble. I shall wrap her in the cost list first and on her feet she shall wear dual shoes. You intend her great honour, said Sir Reginald. I cannot let her stay behind here, said Sir Archie, for who among them would be mindful of such a poor creature? She would be forgotten by all ere many months were passed. None would visit her abode. None would relieve her loneliness. But when once I reach home I shall rear a stately dwelling for her. There shall her name stand graven in the hard stone, that none may forget it. There I myself shall come to her every day and all shall be so splendidly devised that folk from far away shall come to visit her. There shall be lamps and candles burning night and day the sound of music and song shall make it seem a perpetual festival. The gale blew violently in their faces as they walked over the ice. It tore El-Salil's cloak loose and made it flutter like a banner. Will you help me to carry El-Salil a moment? said Sir Archie, while I warned her cloak about her. Sir Reginald took El-Salil in his arms. But as he did so, he was so terrified that he let her slip between his hands onto the ice. I knew not that El-Salil was dead. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Reading by Lars Rolander The Treasure by Selma Lagerlö Translated from the Swedish by Arthur G. Chater Chapter 10 The Roar of the Waves All the night the skipper of the Great Galleus walked back and forth on his lofty poop. It was dark and the gale howled around him, lashing him with sleep and rain. But the ice still lay firm and fast about the vessel, so that the skipper might just as well have slept quietly in his birth. But he stayed up the whole night, time after time he put his hand to his ear and listened. It was not easy to say what he was listening for. He had all his crew on board, as well as all the passengers he was to carry over to Scotland. Every one of them lay below decks fast asleep, and there was no sound of talk to which the skipper might be listening. As the storm came sweeping over the ice pond galleus, it threw itself upon the vessel, as though from old habit it would drive her through the water. And as the ship still stood fast, the wind took hold of her again and again. It rattled all the little icicles that hung from her ropes and tackles. It made her timbers creak and groan. Her masts were strained and gave loud cracks as though they would go by the board. It was no quiet night. There was a muffled rustling in the air, as the snow came whistling past. There was a patterned splash as the rain came pelting down. And in the ice one crack after another opened with a noise like thunder, as though ships of war had been at sea exchanging heavy salvos. But to none of this was the skipper listening. He stayed up the whole night until a grey dawn spread over the sky, but still he did not hear the sound he was waiting for. At last the singing monotonous murmur was born upon the night air, a rocking caressing sound as of distant music. Then the skipper hurried across the roads towards a midships to the lofty four-castle where his crew slept. Turn out, he called to them, and take your oars and boat hooks. The time is almost come when we shall be free. I hear the roar of open water. I hear the song of the free waves. The men left sleeping and came out at once. They posted themselves along the ships' sites while the day slowly dawned. When at last it was light enough for them to see what changes the night had brought, they found that all the creeks and channels were open far out to sea. But in the bay where they were frozen in, not a fissure could be seen in the ice, which lay firm and unbroken. And in the channel which led out of this bay the ice had piled itself up into a high wall. The waves in their free play outside continually cast up floating ice upon it. In the sound between the scurries there was a swarm of sails. All the fishing boats which had lain icebound off Mashtran were now streaming out. The sea ran high and blocks of ice still floated among the waves. But the fishermen seemed to think they had no time to wait for safe and calm water, and they had set sail. They stood in the bowels of their boats and kept a sharp lookout. Small blocks of ice they fended off with an oar. But when the big ones came they put the helm over and bore away. On the high poop of the Galleus the skipper stood and watched them. He could see that they had their troubles, but he saw too that one boat after another wriggled through and came out into the open sea. And when the skipper saw the sails gliding over the blue water, he felt his disappointment so bitterly that tears came into his eyes. But his ship still lay, and before him the wall of ice was piling up higher and higher. The sea outside bore not only ships and boats, but sometimes small white icebergs came floating past. They were big ice floes that had been thrown one upon another and were now sailing southward. They shone like silver in the morning sun, and now and then they showed as pink as though they had been strewed with roses. But high up among the whistling of the wind loud cries were heard, now like singing voices, now like peeling trumpets. There was a sound of jubilation in these cries, swelling the heart of him who heard them. They came from a long flight of swans on their way from the south. But when the skipper saw the icebergs moving southward and the swans flying to the north, such longing ceased him that he wrung his hands. Woe's me that I must lie here, he said. Will the ice never break up in this bay? I may lie waiting here many days yet. Just as he said this, he saw a man come driving on the ice. He came out of a narrow channel on the mushroom side, and he drew as calmly on the ice as if he did not know the waves had begun once more to carry ships and boats. As he drew under the stern of the Galleus he hailed the skipper. Ho, you there frozen in the ice, do you lack food aboard? Will you buy my salt herring or dried ling or smoked eel? The skipper did not trouble to answer him. He only shook his fist at him and swore. Then the fish hawker stepped off his load. He took a bunch of hay from the sledge and laid it in front of his horse. Then he climbed up on the deck of the Galleus. When he faced the skipper he said to him very earnestly, Today I have not come to sell fish, but I know that you are a God-fearing man. Therefore I have come to ask your help to find a maiden whom the Scotsman brought out to your ship with them just tonight. I know not of their bringing any maiden with them, said the skipper. I have heard no woman's voice aboard the ship tonight. I am Taurarin, the fish hawker, said the other. Maybe you have heard of me. It was I who sapped with her Arnett's Sulbaria parsonage the same night he was murdered. Since then I have had her Arnett's foster daughter under my roof, but last night she was stolen away by his murderers and they have surely brought her with them to your vessel. Are her Arnett's murderers aboard my vessel? asked the skipper in dismay. You see that I am a poor and feeble man, said Taurarin. I have a pulsed arm and therefore I am fearful of taking upon myself any bold and hazardous thing. I have known these many days who were her Arnett's murderers, but I have not dared to bring them to justice and because I have held my peace they have made their escape and have found occasion to carry the maiden with them. But now I have said to myself that I will have no more on my conscience in this matter. At least I will try to save the little maid. If her Arnett's murderers are on board my ship, why does not the watch come out and arrest them? I have begged and prayed them all this night and morning, said Taurarin, but the watch does not come out. They say there are a hundred men at arms on board and with them they dare not contend. Then I thought in God's name I must come out here alone and beg your help me to find the maiden, for I know you to be a God-fearing man. But the skipper paid no heed to his question of the maiden. His mind was full of the other matter. What makes you sure that the murderers are on board? He said. Taurarin pointed to a great oaken chest which stood between the rowers of the watch. I have seen that chest too often in her Arnett's house to be mistaken, he said. In it is her Arnett's money, and where his money is there you will find his murderers. That chest belongs to Sir Archie and his two friends Sir Reginald and Sir Philip, said the skipper. I, said Taurarin, looking at him fixedly. That is so. It belongs to Sir Archie and Sir Philip and Sir Reginald. The skipper stood silent a while and looked this way and that. When think you the ice will break up in this bay? He said to Taurarin. There is something strange in it this year, said Taurarin. In this bay we have always seen the ice break up early, for there is a strong current, but as it shapes now you must have a care that you be not thrust against the land when the ice begins to move. I think of not else, said the skipper. He again stood silent for a while and turned his face toward the sea. The morning sun shone high in the sky and the waves reflected its regions. The liberated vessels scudded this way and that and the seabirds came flying from the south with joyous cries. The fish lay near the surface and glittered in the sun as they leapt high out of the water, the Anton after their long imprisonment under the ice. The gulls which had been circling out beyond the edge of the ice came in great flocks toward land to fish in their old waters. The skipper could not endure this sight. Shall I be counted the friend of murderers and evil doers? He said. Can I close my eyes and refuse to see why God keeps the gates of the seabird against my vessel? Shall I be destroyed for the sake of the unrighteous who have taken refuge with me? And the skipper went forward and said to his men, Now I know why we have been held back while all other ships have put to sea. It is because we have murderers and evil doers on board. Then the skipper went to the Scottish men at arms who still lay asleep in the ship's hold. Listen, he said to them, Keep you quiet yet a while, no matter what cries or tumult you may hear on board. We must follow God's commandment and not suffer evil doers amongst us. If you obey me, I promise to bring you the chest which holds her earnest money, and you shall share it among you. But a tourer in the skipper said, Go down to your sledge and cast your fish out on the ice. You shall have other fright unknown. Then the skipper and his men broke into the cabin where Srirachi and his friends slept, and they threw themselves upon them to bind them while they still lay asleep. And when the three Scotsmen tried to defend themselves, they smote them hard with their axes and hand spikes. And the skipper said to them, You are murderers and evil doers. How could you think to escape punishment? No, you're not that it is for your sake. God keeps all the gates of the sea closed. Then the three men cried aloud to their comrades, bidding them come and help them. You need not call to them, said the skipper. They will not come. They have gotten her earnest hoard to share amongst them and are even now measuring out silver coin in their hats. For the sake of this money the evil deeds was done, and this money has now brought retribution upon you. And before Turarin had finished unloading the fish from his sledge, the skipper and his men came down onto the ice. They brought with them three men securely bound. They were grievously hurt and fainting from their wounds. God has not called on me in vain, said the skipper. As soon as his will was clear to me, I hearkened to it. They laid the prisoners on the sledge, and Turarin drove with them by creaks and narrow sounds, where the eyes still lay firm until he came to Mastrand. Now late in the afternoon, the skipper stood on the lofty poop of his vessel and looked out to see what. Nothing was changed around the vessel, and the wall of ice towered ever higher before her. Then the skipper saw a long procession of people coming out to his ship. All the women of Mastrand were there, both young and old. They all wore morningweeds, and they brought with them a group of boys who carried a bear. When they were come to the Galleus, they said to the skipper, We are come to fetch a young maiden who is dead. Those murderers have confessed that she gave her life to hinder their escape, and now we, all the women of Mastrand, are come to bring her to our town with all the honour that is her due. Then El-Sallil was found and brought down to the ice and born into Mastrand, and all the women in the place wept over the young maid who had loved an evil doer and given her life to destroy him she loved. But even as the line of women advanced, the wind and waves broke in behind them and tore up the ice over which they had but lately passed, and when they came to Mastrand with El-Sallil, all the gates of the sea stood open.