hears us not."

The tumultuous stir of battle was forgotten as they brought him
supper and gently bound his wounds. A kettle sang a drowsy song
and seemed to lay a languid spell upon him, and, as in a dream, he
heard the hermit offer up an evening prayer. The petitions,
eloquent and brief in his northern tongue, rose above the
throbbing of the roost outside, and died away into a prayerful
silence; and then, in the pleasant nicker of the firelight, they
parted till the morrow.

Estein and the hermit stepped out into the cool night.

"They who visit the Holy Isle must rest content with hard
pillows," said Andreas. "Here in this cell you will find a blanket
and a couch of stone. May Christ be with you through the night;"
and as he spoke he turned into his own bare apartment.

Estein looked upward at the stars shining as calmly on him here as
on the sea-king who lately paced his long ship's deck; he listened
for a moment to the roost rising higher and moaning more uneasily;
and then above both he saw a pair of dark blue eyes, and heard a
voice with just a touch of raillery in it. As he bent his head and
entered his cell, he smiled to himself at the pleasantness of the
vision.




CHAPTER IV.