he will be here soon."

And then he said, looking from me to the dog, "Now I hold you as a
true man, therefore I will tell you this--anger not the jarl when
he speaks to you."

"Thanks, friend!" I answered heartily, "I think I shall not do
that. Is he like his father?"

The man laughed shortly, only saying:

"Is darkness like daylight?"

"Then he is not like Jarl Halfden."

Now the honest man was going to ask in great wonder how I knew of
him, when there came the quick trot of horses to the door, and a
stern voice, which had in its tones somewhat familiar to me, called
him:

"Raud, come forth!"

My host started up, and saying, "It is Jarl Ingvar," went to the
door, while I too rose and followed him, for I would not seem to
avoid meeting the son of Lodbrok, my friend.

"Where is this stranger?" said the jarl's voice; "bring him forth."

Raud turned to beckon me, but I was close to him, and came out of
the hut unbidden.

There sat a great man, clad in light chain mail and helmed, with
his double-headed axe slung to his saddle bow, but seeming to have
come from hunting, for he carried a short, broad-pointed boar
spear, and on the wrist of his bridle hand sat a hooded hawk like
Lodbrok's. His face had in it a look both of his father and of
Halfden, but it was hard and stern; and whereas they had brown
hair, his was jet black as a raven's wing. Maybe he was ten years
older than Halfden.

There were five or six other men, seemingly of rank, and on
horseback also, behind him, but they wore no armour, and were in
hunting gear only, and again there were footmen, leading hounds
like the great one that stood by Raud and me. And two men there
were who led between them Beorn, holding him lest he should fall,
either from weakness or terror, close to the jarl.

So I stood before Ingvar the Jarl, and wondered how things would
go, and what Beorn had said, though I had no fear of him. And as
the jarl gazed at me I raised my hand, saying in the viking's
greeting:

"Skoal to Jarl Ingvar!"

At that he half raised hand in answer, but checked himself, saying
shortly:

"Who are you, and how come you by my father's boat?"

I was about to answer, but at that word it seemed that for the
first time Beorn learnt into whose hands he had fallen, and he fell
on his knees between his two guards, crying for mercy. I think that
he was distraught with terror, for his words were thick and broken,
and he had forgotten that none but