Sir Philip and Sir Reginald walked beside him. They tried to tell him how they had discovered the trap laid for them and how they had succeeded in getting the heavy treasure chest away to the gallias 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 that you carry there?" asked Sir Reginald. "It is Elsalill," answered Sir Archie. "I shall take her with me to Scotland. I will not leave her behind. Here she would never be aught 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 her resting-place shall be made of marble. I shall wrap her in the costliest furs, and on her feet she shall wear jewelled 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 past. 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, and 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 Elsalill's cloak loose and made it flutter like a banner. "Will you help me to carry Elsalill a moment," said Sir Archie, "while I wind her cloak about her?" Sir Reginald took Elsalill in his arms, but as he did so he was so terrified that he let her slip between his hands on to the ice. "I knew not that Elsalill was dead," he said. CHAPTER X THE ROAR OF THE WAVES All night the skipper of the great gallias walked back and forth on his lofty poop. It was dark, and the gale howled around him, lashing him with sleet 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 berth. 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.