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Updated: May 31, 2025
Not to have to go back to London alone, to see what she could not, surely, bear to see Barry and Gerda, Gerda and Barry, always, everywhere, radiant and in love. And Neville, Gerda's mother, who saw so much. And Rosalind, who saw everything, everything, and said so. And Mrs. Hilary....
Above them, on laths and perches, were more than a hundred pigeons, who all seemed to be asleep, although they moved slightly when the two little girls came near them. "These all belong to me," said the robber-girl; and she seized the nearest to her, held it by the feet, and shook it till it flapped its wings. "Kiss it," cried she, flapping it in Gerda's face.
And Gerda's golden head lay pillowed in her two clasped hands, and she stared up at the blue through the green and did nothing at all, for that was often Gerda's unashamed way. Often Rodney sat in the garden too and worked.
And she dried Gerda's eyes, and stuck both her hands in the beautiful warm muff. The little robber-girl took Gerda to a corner of the robbers' camp where she slept. All round were more than a hundred wood-pigeons which seemed to be asleep, but they moved a little when the two girls came up. There was also, near by, a reindeer which the robber-girl teased by tickling it with her long sharp knife.
For a moment I could not tell what might come, and my hand was on my sword hilt, though I would not draw the weapon yet. Then came Gerda's clear voice again. "To me, Gerda's men," she cried, and her sword flashed out. "He lies, and you know it." Three men led a rush down the hall to us, and one was lame. They were my Caithness men who had escaped from Asbiorn here.
"Shift of rowers," he said in a whisper, and Gerda's pale face brightened. Then I heard Heidrek rating someone, and I heard, too, the tramp and rattle of the men who left and came to the oars; but by the time the steady pull began again we had passed the ship by a long way, and lost the sound almost as soon as it came. Then there was silence once more, and the strain was past.
And Gerda related all, from the very beginning: the Wood-pigeons cooed above in their cage, and the others slept. The little robber maiden wound her arm round Gerda's neck, held the knife in the other hand, and snored so loud that everybody could hear her; but Gerda could not close her eyes, for she did not know whether she was to live or die.
Gerda's hand sank to her side, and she swayed against me so that I had to support her hastily, for she was fainting. I do not know what my face was like as I saw that ghostly greeting, but Dalfin's was white and amazed, and he crossed himself, muttering I know not what prayers.
But although Gerda was soon speeding into the mysterious Arctic regions, she could not forget her new friend in the lonely lighthouse. "Polcirkel, Birger, Polcirkel!" cried Gerda from her side of the car. "Polcirkel!" shouted Birger in answer, and sprang to Gerda's seat to look out of the window.
Nan lay wakeful and restless, watching the moonlight steal across the floor and lie palely on the bed and on Gerda's waxen face and yellow hair. The pretty, pale child, strange in sleep, like a little mermaiden lost on earth. Nan, sitting up in bed, one dark plait hanging over each shoulder, watched her with brooding amber eyes. How young she was, how very, very young.
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