The other two men then rose, and after a consultation, the words of which could not be heard, all stepped ashore, one after another, and climbed a rocky pathway.
"Now, now!" whispered Erica. "Now we can get away."
"Not without the boat," said Oddo. "You would not leave them the boat?"
"No--not if--but they will be back in a moment. They are only gone to hasten their companions."
"I know it," said Oddo. "Now two strokes forward!"
While she gave these two strokes, which brought the skiff to the stern of the boat, Erica saw that Oddo had taken out a knife which gleamed in the starlight. It was for cutting the thong by which the boat was fastened to a birch-pole, the other end of which was hooked on shore. This was to save his going ashore to unhook the pole. It was well for him that boat chains were not in use, owing to the scarcity of metal in that region. The clink of a chain would certainly have been heard.
Quickly and silently he entered the boat and tied the skiff to its stern, and he and Erica took their places where the men had sat one minute before. They used their own muffled oars to turn the boat round, till Oddo observed that the boat oars were muffled too. Then voices were heard again. The men were returning. Strongly did the two companions draw their strokes till a good breadth of water lay between them and the shore, and then till they had again entered the deep shadow which shrouded the mouth of the cove. There they paused.
"In with you!" some loud voice said, as man after man was seen in outline coming down the pathway. "In with you! We have lost time enough already."
"Where is she? I can't see the boat," answered the foremost man.
"You can't miss her," said one behind, "unless the brandy has got into your eyes."
"So I should have said; but I do miss her."
Oddo shook with stifled laughter as he partly saw and partly overheard the perplexity of these men. At last one gave a deep groan, and another declared that the spirits of the fiord were against them, and there was no doubt that their boat was now lying twenty fathoms deep at the bottom of the creek, drawn down by the strong hand of an angry water-sprite. Oddo squeezed Erica's little hand as he heard this. If it had been light enough, he would have seen that even she was smiling.
