angry with thee, Brighteyes," said Edmund, "yet it is not in my
heart to let thee go without words and gifts of farewell. This only I
ask of thee now, that, if things go not well with thee there, out in
Iceland, thou wilt come back to me."

"I will--that I promise thee, King," said Eric, "for I shall never find
a better lord."

"Nor I a braver servant," said the King. Then he gave him the gifts and
kissed him before all men. To Skallagrim also he gave a good byrnie of
Welsh steel coloured black.

Then Eric went aboard again and dropped down the river with the tide.

For five days all went well with them, the sea being calm and the winds
light and favourable. But on the fifth night, as they sailed slowly
along the coasts of East Anglia over against Yarmouth sands, the moon
rose red and ringed and the sea fell dead calm.

"Yonder hangs a storm-lamp, lord," said Skallagrim, pointing to the
angry moon. "We shall soon be bailing, for the autumn gales draw near."

"Wait till they come, then speak," said Eric. "Thou croakest ever like a
raven."

"And ravens croak before foul weather," answered Skallagrim, and just as
he spoke a sudden gust of wind came up from the south-east and laid the
Gudruda over. After this it came on to blow, and so fiercely that
for whole days and nights their clothes were scarcely dry. They ran
northwards before the storm and still northward, sighting no land and
seeing no stars. And ever as they scudded on the gale grew fiercer, till
at length the men were worn out with bailing and starved with wet and
cold. Three of their number also were washed away by the seas, and all
were in sorry plight.

It was the fourth night of the gale. Eric stood at the helm, and by
him Skallagrim. They were alone, for their comrades were spent and lay
beneath decks, waiting for death. The ship was half full of water, but
they had no more strength to bail. Eric seemed grim and gaunt in the
white light of the moon, and his long hair streamed about him wildly.
Grimmer yet was Skallagrim as he clung to the shield-rail and stared
across the deep.

"She rolls heavily, lord," he shouted, "and the water gains fast."

"Can the men bail no more?" asked Eric.

"Nay, they are outworn and wait for death."

"They need not wait long," said Eric. "What do they say of me?"

"Nothing."

Then Eric groaned aloud. "It was my stubbornness that brought us to this
pass," he said; "I care little for myself, but it is ill that al