I knew not how to bear this meeting, but I was not alone in my trouble, for nearer me crept Osritha, saying to me alone, while the people cheered and shouted: 

“How shall we tell Halfden?”

The two jarls were busy at the mooring place, and I could only answer her that I could look to her alone for help.  Now at that I knew what had sprung up in my heart for Osritha, and that not in this only should I look for help from her and find it, but if it might be, all my life through.  For now in my trouble she looked at me with a new look, answering: 

“I will help you, whatever betide.”

I might say no more then, nor were words needed, for I knew all that she meant.  And so my heart was lightened, for now I held that I was repaid for all that had gone before, and save for that which had brought me here, gladly would I take my perilous voyage over again to find this land and the treasure it now held for me.

At last the ship’s keel grated on the sand, and the men sprang from shore waist deep in water, to take her the mighty cables that should haul her into her berth; and then the long gangplank was run out, and Halfden came striding along it, looking bright and handsome—­and halfway over, he stopped where none could throng him, and lifting his hand for silence cried for all to hear.

“Hearken all to good news!  Lodbrok our Jarl lives!”

Then, alas! instead of the great cheer that should have broken from the lips of all that throng, was at first a silence, and then a groan—­low and pitiful as of a mourning people who wail for the dead and the sorrowful living—­and at that sound Halfden paled, and stayed no more, hurrying ashore and to where his brothers stood.

“What is this?” he said, and his voice was low, and yet clear in the silence that had fallen, for all his men behind him had stopped as if turned to stone where they stood.

Then from my side sprang Osritha before any could answer, meeting him first of all, and she threw her arms round his neck, saying: 

“Dead is Lodbrok our father, and nigh to death for his sake has been Wulfric, your friend.  Yet he at least is well, and here to speak with you and tell you all.”

Then for the great and terrible sorrow that came at the end of the joyous homeward sailing, down on the hard sand Halfden the Jarl threw himself, and there lay weeping as these wild Danes can weep, for their sorrow is as terrible as their rage, and they will put no bounds to the way of grief of which there is no need for shame.  Nor have they the hope that bids us sorrow not as they.

And while he lay there, all men held their peace, looking in one another’s faces, and only the jarls and Osritha and myself stood near him.

Very suddenly he raised himself up, and was once more calm; then he kissed the maiden, and grasped his brothers’ hands, and then held out both hands to me, holding mine and looking in my face.