aking words of comfort.

Then Grim knelt also, and said, "Thralls of yours are we, Havelok, son
of Gunnar, and for you shall our lives be given before Hodulf shall harm
you. Nor shall he know that you live until the day comes when you can go
to him sword in hand and helm on head, with half the men of this realm
at your back, and speak to him of what he did and what he planned, and
the vengeance that shall be therefor."

So Grim took on himself to be Havelok's foster-father, and, as he ended,
the boy said with glowing eyes, "I would that I were grown up. How long
shall this be before it comes to pass?"

And then of a sudden he said, as a tired child will, "Friends, I am
sorely weary. Let me sleep."

So Leva took him in her arms and laid him in their own bed; and at once
he slept, so that she left him and came back to Grim by the fireside,
for there was much to be said.

First of all it was clear that Havelok must be hidden, and it was not to
be supposed that Hodulf would be satisfied until he had seen the thrall
to whom he had trusted such a secret come back for his reward. If he
came not he would be sought; and then he would find out to whom he had
spoken, and there would be trouble enough.

But it seemed easy to hide Havelok on board the ship, and sail with him
to England as soon as possible. A few days might well pass before a
thrall could get to Hodulf, so that he would suspect nothing just at
first. There were merchants in England who would care for the boy well,
and the two boats might be sunk, so that the king should not ask whose
they were. So when Grim came home again the fisher would be thought of
as drowned on his errand, and Hodulf would be content.

But then, after a little talk of this, it was plain that all the town
could not be told to say that the fisher was drowned on such a night,
and Hodulf would leave naught undone to find the truth of the matter. So
the puzzle became greater, and the one thing that was clear was that
Grim was in sore danger, and Havelok also.

Then suddenly outside the dogs barked, and a voice which they obeyed
quieted them. Grim sprang for his axe, which hung on the wall, and went
to the door, whereon someone was knocking gently.

"Open, uncle; it is I, Arngeir."

"What does the boy want at this time?" said Grim, taking down the great
bar that kept the door, axe in hand, for one must be cautious in such
times as these.

Arngeir came in---a tall young man of twenty, han