"And what would it avail if we were to escape?" asked Olaf. "Boys
as we are, we should be of little use in the world, I think."

"You are afraid!" cried Thorgils.

"Yes," echoed Egbert, "you are afraid." Then turning to Thorgils,
he added: "But why should we urge the lad against his will? He is
but a child, and would only be a burden to us. Let us leave him
and go our ways without him."

"You are not of our folk, Egbert," returned Thorgils, flinging
himself down upon the dry leaves, "and you do not know what the vow
of foster brotherhood means. You ask me to do that which I would
sooner die than do. Ole and I will never part until death parts
us. And if either should be slain, then the other will avenge his
death. If Ole wills to remain in slavery until he is old and gray,
then I will always be his companion in bondage. But to escape
without him, that will I never do!"

Nothing more was said. The three boys, weary after their long
journey, curled themselves up to sleep.

So soundly did young Olaf sleep, that at midnight, when a man's
hands unbound the chain about his neck he was not awakened. Very
cautiously the man took him up in his strong arms, and carried him
away among the dark shadows of the trees to a part of the forest
far removed from the campfires. And at last he laid the lad down
on a bed of dry reeds and moss at the side of the stream, where
the bright moon, shining through an open glade, shed its light upon