He resolved to retain at the monastery only some aged monks and a few children, whose utter defenselessness, he thought, would disarm the ferocity and vengeance of the Danes.

The rest, only about thirty, however, in number--nearly all the brethren having gone out under the Friar Joly into the great battle--were put on board a boat to be sent down the river.

It seems at first view a strange idea to send away the vigorous and strong, and keep the infirm and helpless at the scene of danger; but the monks knew very well that all resistance was vain, and that, consequently, their greatest safety would lie in the absence of all appearance of the possibility of resistance.
The treasures were sent away, too, with all the men.

They hastily collected all the valuables together, the relics, the jewels, and all of the gold and silver plate which could be easily removed, and placed them in a boat--packing them as securely as their haste and trepidation allowed.

The boats glided down the river till they came to a lonely spot, where an anchorite or sort of hermit lived in solitude.
The men and the treasures were to be intrusted to his charge.