Thorgills looked earnestly at Eogan, “Sir Chief,” he said at last, “I did believe that my king wag living. He was rescued after the battle, and he began a journey to Rome. Then he came hither to kneel at the Holy Sepulchre. When his vow was done, he went out into the desert. Think thou, Sir Chief, how may I find one man who hath been swallowed up in the desert?”
“Nay!” said Eogan, looking kindly at the scald, “thy king would rather that thou shouldst let him disappear into the wilderness, If indeed his kingdom is lost he might not greatly desire to return to it.”
Thorgills looked anxiously in Eogan’s face, as he answered: “Even so, Sir Chief, King Olaf believed he had lost Norway; but Norway is his as long as he has life; and I have journeyed all these Weary miles to find him and to bring him home. Dost thou not remember, Sir Chief, how all Norway turned to him when he came back from thy Irish land? Even so shall the Norsemen turn to him, if so I can but find him.”
Thorgills bent his head again in thought, and Eogan O’Niall sat down beside him. He was deeply touched at the scald’s devotion; but he gravely doubted if Olaf were living, or that he could be found, or could be reinstated in his kingdom. To divert the scald’s attention, he questioned him of his own affairs.
