Arngeir’s eyes flashed at that, and at once he went to the men, and there was a click and rattle as the arrows went to string, and they gathered themselves together in readiness to leap up when the word came.  There seemed every chance that we should be upon the longship before they knew what we were about, for we had the weather gauge.

Now the Viking hailed again, and again bore up for us a little, whereat my father smiled grimly, for it helped his plan.  And this time, as there was no answer, his men sent an arrow or two on board, which did no harm.

“It is plain that we are to be taken,” my father said on that, “so we will wait no longer.  Stand by, men, and one lucky shot will do all.  Shoot!”

The helm went up as he spoke, and the men leaped to their feet, raining arrows round the two men who were at the helm, and down on the Viking we swept with a great cheer.

But in a moment there were four men on her after deck, and whether the first helmsman was shot I cannot say; but I think not, for quickly as we had borne down on her she was ready, rushing away from us, instead of luffing helplessly, as we had expected.  It would almost have seemed that our move had been looked for.

Ten more minutes passed while we exchanged arrow flights, and then the longship had so gained on us that she struck sail and waited for us with her long oars run out and ready.

“That is all we can do,” said my father, with a sort of groan.  “Put up your weapons, men, for it is no good fighting now.”

They did so, growling; and as we neared the longship, her oars took the water, and she flew alongside of us, and a grappling hook flung deftly from her bows caught our after gunwale, and at once she dropped astern, and swung to its chain as to a tow line.  We were not so much as bidden to strike sail now, and the Vikings began to crowd forward in order to board us by the stern, as the grappling chain was hove short by their windlass.

“Hold on,” my father cried to them “we give up.  Where is your chief?”

Now the men were making way for him when a strange thing happened.  Out of the after cabin ran Havelok when he heard that word, crying that it was not the part of good warriors to give up while they could wield sword—­words that surely he had learned from Gunnar, his father.  And after him came his mother, silent, and terrified lest he should be harmed.

Havelok ran up the steps to my father, and the queen followed.  I have said that there was a little sea running, and this made the ships jerk and strain at the chain that held them together fiercely, now that it was so short.  And even as the queen came to the top step, where there was no rail, for the steps were not amidships, but alongside the gunwale, one of these jerks came; and in a moment she was in the sea, and in a moment also Arngeir was after her, for he was a fine swimmer.

The Vikings cried out as they saw this, but the poor queen said no word, nor did she ever rise again after the first time.  It is likely that she was drawn under the longship at once.