chief. The news of the North and the ale of the North had both exhilarated the Norseman, and he rang out a welcome to his friend.
“Thou art happily come, my Hogan. Come, pledge a health with me! But thy sad face doth not match my mood. Thou didst speak with the princess, my wife?”
“I did, Sir Chief,” Eogan replied slowly.
“What said she?” The ring was dying out of Olaf’s voice. Something in Eogan’s face forewarned him.
The young Chief O’Niall bowed his head reverently and spoke softly: “I told the princess of the eoming of the ‘Aastrid.’ Before I could say further, she cried out, ‘His mother’s name! It is the sign of our departure.’ ‘Aye, Princess,’ I said, ‘and the sign of thy crowning as queen in Olaf’s own kingdom’ She shook her head. ‘No! no! it will never be. I would rather be a simple chief’s wife in my own little Isle than queen of every kingdom of the Northland. O Eogan! if only Olaf would not feel it were his right and his duty to reign in Norway! O Christ, help me to be brave! But these two loves, when they tear each other in my heart, they well-nigh slay me. O Erne! my country!—O Olaf! my Prince!’—And when I stooped to hear the words that were so faint, I could feel no breath—and, Prince, thy Gyda has no need to choose between her loves, for she has given them all up at once.”
