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.  Moreover it was calm enough.

“Malcolm,” she said presently, “do you and Bertric want to go with the prince and see if there is fighting?”

She looked in my face quickly and half turned away, and I wondered what she was thinking.  For a moment I had a foolish thought that mayhap she expected us to be full of longing for the weapon play, and that to please her I might say somewhat which would tend that way.  But I bethought myself and answered her frankly: 

“I must speak for myself,” I said; “but I think it will be the same with Bertric.  I have no mind to meddle with the affairs of another man until I am sure that he needs my help.  I cannot say that I do not like a fair fight when there is good reason for it; but there is no wisdom or courage in going out of the way to seek for one.”

So I laughed, and she laughed also, as relieved.

“I feared lest I held you back from the game you love,” she said.

“If we were alone—­” I said, and there stopped, for I had said too much.  No doubt if she had not been here we should have been off with Dalfin at once with light hearts.

“Then I do stay you,” she said, catching my meaning.

Whereon it came to me that I had better say what I meant outright.

“We need no better reason for staying.  That we have you to care for is good, and in that care is more honour to us than we might win in fighting in a quarrel which is not ours.”

“Little honour can you win here, Malcolm,” she said half sadly, and yet smiling.  “Yet I know what you mean, and I thank you both.”

Now, a thought which had been growing up in my heart for these many days came to the surface, as it were, and I had almost spoken it.  I knew that if this charge were taken from me I should be lonely indeed, and that it were honour enough for me to care for and guard Gerda through all my life as the one thing that I could care for.  I think that it would have been strange if this had not come to me in these long hours of companionship with her, seeing what she was in all respects, whether as she stood here on the windy shore with her fair hair tossed by the sea breeze, fair and full of health and life, or as I had seen her on the decks of the doomed ship, brave and steadfast, with the cruel terror of the pirates on her.

But here and now I could say nothing of this that was so near to me.  I had naught to offer her but my poor presence, no future, and no home.  And maybe there were long days of companionship and service due from me, and I would not that there should be the least thing said to mar the ease with which that went so far.  One can be wise at times, when the comfort of another is in the balance, as it were.