“You saw not his face as he spoke.  And then, how should the princess think of me?”

“Who knows?  Even Odin owned that the minds of maids were hard to fathom.  But one may find a reason or two.  Maybe that oath has somewhat to do with it.  A good daughter will go far to carry out her father’s will, and, in the plain sense thereof, she will certainly do it thus.  Then it is likely that she knows that you are no churl, but the son of Grim, though we have fallen on hard times for a while.  I have heard say that it is the custom here that a man who has crossed the seas in his own ship so many times is a thane by right of that hardihood.  Thane’s son, therefore, might we call you.  Then there is the jealousy of every other thane, if she chooses an East Anglian.  Then she needs one who shall be mighty to lead her forces.  Even the greatest thane will be content to follow a man who is a warrior of warriors.  Ragnar can have told her what you are in that way.  Faith, brother, there are reasons enough.”

Havelok laughed a short laugh at all this, and he grew brighter.  There was sense in Withelm’s words, if they would not bear looking deeply into.

Then I said, adding to these words, “Moreover, Alsi could stop the whole foolishness of his niece if he did not think it a fitting match in some way.”

“So he could,” answered Havelok.  “But yet—­I tell you that there was naught but evil in his face.  Why did he try to force me?”

Then he went back to the thing that weighed mostly on his noble heart—­ the thought that he was unworthy altogether.

“I fear that the princess does but think of me because she must.  It is in my mind that Alsi may have threatened her also until she has consented.  How shall I know this?”

“Most easily, as she speaks with you,” answered Withelm.  “Tomorrow will tell you that.  And then, if you find things thus, what shall prevent your flying?”

“Brother Radbard and the other housecarls,” said Havelok grimly.

“Not if you ask the princess to help you out of her own way by pretending to be most willing.  If Alsi thinks you a gladsome couple, there is no difficulty.  You walk out of the palace as a master there.  Then you fly to Ragnar.  That is all.”

Now that was such an easy way out of the whole coil that we planned it out.  And yet it seemed to me that it was a pity that Havelok knew not more of what seemed to us so sure now.  So, seeing that things were fairly straightened by this last thought, I got up and said that I must be going, making a sign to Withelm to come also; and, with a few more words, we went out.  I saw Havelok set himself to a mighty task of water drawing as I looked back.

“Now,” said I, “here is a strange affair with a vengeance.  Neither head nor tail can I make of it.  But if all we think is right, this is the marriage for the son of Gunnar.”

“Son of Gunnar, or son of Grim,” said Withelm, “princess or not, happy is the maiden who gains Havelok for a husband.  Maybe her woman’s wit has told her so.  She will have many suitors whom she knows to be seeking her throne only, and to him she gives it as a gift unsought.”