post was sorely in my way, over my shoulder more or less, so that I
must needs hurt myself now and then against it. But as this seemed
my one chance I would not give up until I must.

Every now and then I stayed my sawing and had a great tug at the
cords, in hopes that they would give way, but at last I knew I must
saw them through almost to the last strand. It would have been easy
if I could keep at work on the same spot, but that was impossible,
for I could not see behind me, and the post kept shifting me as I
struck it.

I wondered now that I had seen nothing of Evan for so long. Maybe
if I had not been so busy the wonder would have passed, for I
should have been seasick as he was. There was some sea over on this
coast, and quite enough to upset a landsman. However, I was content
that he did not come, without caring to know why.

Then I became aware that the movement of the ship had changed in
some way. There was less of it, and the roll was longer. Soon I
heard Thorgils calling to his men, and then the creak of the blocks
and the thud of folds of canvas on deck told me that the sail was
lowered. After that the long oars rattled as they were run out, and
their even roll and click in the rowlocks seemed to say that they
were making up to some anchorage or wharf. The end of the voyage
was at hand, and I worked harder than ever at my bonds. I began to
fear that the cords would never chafe through enough for me to snap
them, and my heart fell terribly.

Now there was a shout from Thorgils, and his men stopped rowing. I
heard another shout from on shore, as it seemed, and the sound of