d at least."

But now Gerda spoke timidly, for she too had her question at this
time.

"What of women, father? Is there a place for them in the heaven of
which you speak? Was it won for us?"

"Most truly, my daughter. It is for the woman as for the man. There
is no difference."

I saw her face light up with a new wonder and joy, which told me
that here was no idle listener. And so the old teacher went on in
all kindly wisdom, never hurting us in aught he said of the old
gods, but leading us to see the deeper things which our forebears
had forgotten. I listened, and thought it all good; but betimes
Gerda wept quietly, and would fain hear more and more. The little
bell on the chapel rang for the vespers or ever we ended that long
talk, and the old man must go. I raised him up, for he was very
feeble, and again the touch of the gold put a word into his mind.

"Jarl, and son of Odin," he said, smiling, "no need for you to wait
that dim Ragnarok fight of yours for warfare against evil. That
fight has begun, and in it you may take your part now, that you may
share in the victory hereafter."

Then I said, for I minded how useless to me seemed this life here:

"What part have you therein, father--you and the brethren?"

"We pray for those who have forgotten to do so for themselves," he
answered. "And we are of those whose sorest fight has been against
evil within."

So we went into the chapel for the vespers with him, and the day
was done. But in the morning there hung on the black cross on the
green grass a wreath of white flowers which no brother had set
there.

Chapter 11: The Summons Of The Beacons.

Now, for all the peace of this holy island there hung over it an
ever-present fear of which I learned when we spoke to Phelim
concerning the treasure which we would leave in the care of the
brethren when we went hence.

He said that it was well if we would do so, and that they would
bury it under that new shed which we had helped to build, since no
Danes would wonder at seeing newly-turned earth there.

"Moreover," he said, "if we are not here when you come for it, you
will know where it is."

He said this quietly, and as a matter of course, and I asked him in
surprise if it was likely that they would leave their island.

"Not alive," he answered; "but the Danes may spy our easily-taken
flocks at any time, and come ashore here."

"Why, they would not harm the unresisting," I said.

"Nay, but we are