The Dane muttered sullenly: “I but said, King Olaf, they could not be of service to thee. Surely the girl will be a burden.”
Olaf looked down scornfully at Ulf. “Count thou thy gold, and I will take all the burden.” Then he turned to the kneeling captives. Something in the picture of helpless age and helpless young maidenhood stirred the heart of the great viking.
“Nay! nay!” he said, with a wonderful note of gentleness in his strong tone, “ye must not fear me. I am a friend!”
The old man started and looked up. His sad glance caught sight of the golden chain about King Olaf’s neck, and the jewelled crucifix at its end. A light came into his eyes.
“As thou art a Christian, O King! and as thou dost hope for God’s mercy on thy soul, take pity upon me, and upon this poor little maid, that I may live to protect her.”
King Olaf gave his hand to the kneeling man. “Rise! I give thee the word of Olaf Tryggevesson, and that is the strongest word among men to-day, that thou and the little maid shall suffer no harm.” He turned and pointed to the stern of the vessel. “Thore, keep that portion of the deck for this old man and his maid, and see that none molest them.”
Thorgills, however, was ahead of Thore, and had already spread out the cushions for the new-comers to rest upon. He led the old man to a seat. The tired
