imly.

The enemy hailed again at that moment. I could hear now that they
cried to the ship that we had their boat--that we were Irish knaves
who had stolen it and all that was in it. It is quite likely that
they honestly thought us such, but never wondered why Irishry
should seek refuge with these ships.

Now the leading vessel was close on us. I could hear the hum of the
wind in her broad sail and rigging, and the wash of the waves round
her sharp bows. Then a tall young man came and looked at us from
her high foredeck, and lifted his hand. The ship luffed and waited
for us. As we slid alongside into the still water under her lee, he
cried to us:

"Who knows Hakon, and calls on him?"

"An old comrade--Bertric of Lyme."

Hakon stared at Bertric under his hand for a moment, and laughed.

"And so it is!" he cried. "Well met, old friend; but what is that
boat astern of you, and why were you in so desperate a hurry?"

"Needs must hurry when the worst pirate in the North Sea is after
one. We have escaped once before from him--from Heidrek the
Seafarer."

One or two men were beside Hakon, watching us curiously. One
whistled when he heard that name, and spoke quickly to Hakon, who
nodded. Then a line came uncoiling in the air from the ship to us,
and across the huddled body of his comrade Phelim caught it, while
I lowered the sail. He made it fast in the bows, and then bent over
his brother, setting him more easily against the thwart. He had not
dared shift his place to help him before, lest he should alter the
sailing trim of the boat, and that must have been hard for him.

The men took the line astern, and the great ship paid off from the
wind. We swung astern of her, wondering what this meant. I could
hear Heidrek's men shouting, but I could not see how near they
were, for the ship hid them.

The next moment told me. I saw, as I looked past the long black
side of the ship, the bow of the boat come into view. A man stood
up in it with his hand stretched out in a strange way, and I heard
a yell. Then the boat was gone, and past us drifted oars and
crushed planking, and a helm floating like an upturned bowl. She
had been run down.

Close by the bows of our boat a head came to the surface, and the
face was turned to us. I knew it, for it was that of Asbiorn
Heidreksson, and in a flash I minded that once I said that the day
might come when I could repay him for letting us go--saving our
lives, rather. He had his