"What is your age?" Olaf inquired.

"Fifteen summers," answered Egbert.

Thorgils stood up and leaned his hand against the trunk of a tree,
looking down at his two companions.

"I think," said he, "that it would be a very good thing if we
three should run away from this new master of ours--now, while
the darkness lasts,--and, keeping in company, try to get back
to the coast. There we might take possession of a small sailboat,
and so make our way over sea to the land of the Angles. What say
you, Ole?"

Olaf was silent for a while. At last he said:

"It were much wiser in us to wait until we are old enough to fight
our way in the world."

"And you will not try to escape?" asked Thorgils.

"No," answered Olaf firmly. "We have a good master. Why should we
leave him?"

"It is because he has given you that fine cloak that you think him
good," returned Thorgils tauntingly; "but, believe me, he has his
private reasons for so bribing you. I can well guess what he means
to do with you, and I tell you that you will surely rue it if you
do not escape while we may; for, if men bear their true nature in
their faces, then this man who has bought us has an evil heart."