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 priests of the faith, therefore the heathen rage against us.

Already they have slain almost every brotherhood along the shores of this land, and of Scotland.

Our turn may come at any time." He was in no way disquieted at this terrible thought.

Thereafter I knew that to him such a death was martyrdom, and most glorious.
But Bertric listened with a troubled face, and presently, when we were alone again, he said that he was anxious.
"I only hope that we may not have brought trouble on these good men who have sheltered us," he said.

"There was a ship which must have seen us cast ashore here." "We should have had her back by this time if she meant seeking us." "It is not her whom I fear," he answered.