I think I must have uttered some sharp exclamation, for Olaf turned to me.  “You see,” he said, triumphantly, “I have known it all the time.  I knew it the first time that I saw her in the garden.”

Nancy had recovered herself.  “But I can’t stalk around the streets in a blue cloak with my hair down.”

He laughed with her.  “Oh, no, no.  But the color is only a symbol.  Modern life has robbed you of vivid things.  Even your emotions.  You are—­afraid—­” He caught himself up.  “We can talk of that after our swim.  I think we shall have a thousand things to talk about.”

Nancy held out her hand for her cap, but he would not give it to her.  “Why should you care if your hair gets wet?  The wind and the sun will dry it—­”

I was amazed when I saw that she was letting him have his way.  Never for a moment had Anthony mastered her.  For the first time in her life Nancy was dominated by a will that was stronger than her own.

I sat on deck and watched them as they swam like two young sea gods, Nancy’s bronze hair bright under the sun.  Olaf’s red-gold crest....

The blue cloak lay across my knee.  Nancy had cast it off as she had descended into the launch.  I had examined it and had found it of soft, thick wool, with embroidery of a strange and primitive sort in faded colors.  Yet the material of the cloak had not faded, or, if it had, there remained that clear azure, like the Virgin’s cloak in old pictures.

I knew now why Olaf had wanted Nancy on board, why he had wanted to swim with her in the sea which was as blue as her eyes and his own.  It was to reveal her to himself as the match of the women of the Sagas.  I found this description later in one of the old books in the ship’s library: 

* * * * *

Then Hallgerd was sent for, and came with two women.  She wore a blue woven mantle ... her hair reached down to her waist on both sides, and she tucked it under her belt.

And there was, too, this account of a housewife in her “kyrtil”: 

    The dress-train was trailing,
    The skirt had a blue tint;
    Her brow was brighter,
    Her neck was whiter
    Than pure new fallen snow.

In other words, that one glance at Nancy in the garden, when he had risen at her entrance, had disclosed to Olaf the fundamental in her.  He had known her as a sea-maiden.  And she had not known it, nor I, nor Anthony.

* * * * *

Luncheon was served on deck.  We were waited on by fair-haired, but very modern Norsemen.  The crew on The Viking were all Scandinavians.  Most of them spoke English, and there seemed nothing uncommon about any of them.  Yet, in the mood of the moment, I should have felt no surprise had they served us in the skins of wild animals, or had set sail like pirates with the two of us captive on board.