“Let me think thereof,” said I, not yet daring to make so sure of what I most wished.

“Shall I tell Osritha that Wulfric thought twice of coming to see her?”

“That you shall not,” I cried; “I do but play with my happiness.  Surely I will go, and gladly.  But will she welcome me?”

“Better come and see concerning that also,” he answered, laughing a little, so that one might know what he meant.

“Let us go at once on this tide,” I said, starting up.

“Not so fast now, comrade,” laughed Thormod.  “Would you come again half starved, as last time, into the lady’s presence?”

Then I called Cyneward, but when he rose up and came to us, Thormod stared at him, crying: 

“You here, Raud!  I thought you were with Ingvar.”

“Aye, Thormod, I am here—­at least Cyneward, who was Raud, is with Wulfric.”

“Ho!  Then you have turned Christian?”

“Aye,” answered Cyneward, flushing, though not with shame, for it was the first time he had owned his faith to one of his former comrades.

“Now I thought this likely to happen to some of us,” said Thormod, not showing much surprise, “if maybe it is sooner than one might have looked for.  However, that is your concern, not mine.  Keep out of Ingvar’s way, though.”

“I bide here with Wulfric,” he answered, having paid no heed to our low-voiced talk.

“Wulfric sails with me to find—­Ingvar,” said Thormod, and at that Cyneward turned to me in surprise.

“Not Ingvar,” said I, “but one in his house.  Will you come with me?”

Then he understood, and his face showed his gladness.

“This is well,” he cried; “gladly will I go with you and return with that other.”

“That is to be seen,” I answered, though I thought it surely would be so.  “Now go and see to the arms and all things needful, and send the steward to me, for we have to victual the ship.”

So I left Thormod with the steward and sought Ingild, telling him what I would do.  Whereat he, knowing my trouble, was very glad; and then Egfrid would fain come with me also when he heard.  That, however, I would not suffer, seeing that there was Ingvar to be dealt with.  My mother wept, and would have me not go.  But here my sister helped me.

“Bring Osritha back if you can,” she said.  “Soon will our house be built again, and we shall go, and you will be lonely.”

For Egfrid’s father had owned Guthrum, and his house and theirs were nigh rebuilt.

In a day’s time Thormod and I set sail, and once more I took the helm as we went out over our bar.  And the quiver of the tiller in my hands and the long lift of the ship over the rollers seemed to put fresh life in me, and my gloom passed away as if it had never been.