Phelim and I between us had told her the words of the service.
Now we walked away together toward the shore, and were silent for a time.

It was plain that she thought deeply on somewhat.

At last she said sadly: "What is to come is all dim and unknown, but if it does come to pass that I may ever have home of my own again, I would that there was one of these brothers to teach me and mine." "That might easily be," I answered.
"They would not go to a heathen land ?" she said in surprise.
"Maybe not these hermits, but some man like to them would.

I have heard them talk of men who are held in the greatest honour because they have dared to do so." Thereafter she said nothing, but in her face grew a great content.
We came to the shore and looked on the bare timbers of the wreck, and with all my heart I would that they were not quite so plain to be seen.

The tides were slack now, and the water did not hide them in the least, even at the full flood.