Gerda softly, and I thought that the
reflection of the cross made a glimmering pathway from the hall to
the ship which bore her homeward.

But I had no time to wonder how and why that sign was there, for
now we were seen, and torches began to flicker along the wharf. Our
pilots spoke to Asbiorn, and he passed the word for men to go
forward with the shore warps, and the oar strokes slowed down. I
thought I saw the broad gleam of light as the doors of the hall
opened and closed again, and then a hail or two went back and forth
from the shore and us. The oars were laid in and we were alongside
the wharf, and quietly the rowers took their arms and sat in their
places, waiting, as they had been bidden. There were not more than
a score of men waiting us ashore, for it was supper time.

Then came a man from out of the town toward us, and by the time we
were moored he was on the wharf opposite the stern. He had on helm
and sword, but no mail, and his shield hung over his shoulder. The
men made way for him, and in the torchlight I saw that he was
gray-bearded and strong.

"It is Gorm the Steward," said Gerda to me, "He is my friend. Let
me speak to him."

"Ho, shipmaster!" cried Gorm. "Welcome, if you come in friendship,
as I suppose. Whence are you, and what would you?"

"Friends," said Asbiorn; "friends with a cargo some of you will be
glad to see."

"Aye, aye," answered the steward. "You traders always say that.
Well, that will wait for daylight. Meanwhile come up to the hall
and sup."

Then his eyes lit on the silent, mail-clad men at the oar benches,
and he started.

"Ho!" he cried sternly, "what is the meaning of all this show of
weapons?"

"Speak to him, Gerda," I said then, seeing that it was time.

She went to the rail and leaned over it. The red flares shone on
her mail and white dress and sparkling helm.

"Gorm," she cried softly; "Gorm, old friend--I have come home!"

He stood for a moment as if turned to stone there on the wharf.
Then he shaded his eyes with his hand as if in broad daylight, and
stared at Gerda for but a moment, for she spoke his name once more.

"Odin," he cried, "this is a good day--if my ears and eyes do not
play me false--yet it is hardly to be believed. Let me come on
board."

He hurried to the gangway, and there Gerda met him. One close look
was enough for him, and he bent his knee and kissed her hand with
words of welcome, and so would be made known to Bertric and myself.