“Have no fear, lord,” said the mate, “we are true men.”

“That we shall look to your deeds to learn,” said Eric, laying down his sword and shield.

Skallagrim did likewise, though with no good grace.  Then men came with strong cords and bound them fast hand and foot, handling them fearsomely as men handle a live bear in a net.  Then they led them forward to the prow.

As they went Eric looked up.  Yonder, twenty furlongs and more away, sailed the Gudruda.

“This is good fellowship,” said Skallagrim, “thus to leave us in the trap.”

“Nay,” answered Eric.  “They cannot put about in such a sea, and doubtless also they think us dead.  Nevertheless, if ever it comes about that Hall and I stand face to face again, there will be need for me to think of gentleness.”

“I shall think little thereon,” growled Skallagrim.

Now they were come to the prow, and there was a half deck under which they were set, out of reach of the wind and water.  In the deck was a stout iron ring, and the men made them fast with ropes to it, so that they might move but little, and they set their helms and weapons behind them in such fashion that they could not come at them.  Then they flung cloaks about them, and brought them food and drink, of which they stood much in need, and treated them well in every way.  But for all this Skallagrim trusted them no more.

“We are new-hooked, lord,” he said, “and they give us line.  Presently they will haul us in.”

“Evil comes soon enough,” answered Eric, “no need to run to greet it,” and he fell to thinking of Gudruda, and of the day’s deeds, till presently he dropped asleep, for he was very weary.

Now it chanced that as Eric slept he dreamed a dream so strong and strange that it seemed to live within him.  He dreamed that he slept there beneath the Raven’s deck, and that a rat came and whispered spells into his ear.  Then he dreamed that Swanhild glided towards him, walking on the stormy seas.  He saw her afar, and she came swiftly, and ever the sea grew smooth before her feet, nor did the wind so much as stir her hair.  Presently she stood by him in the ship, and, bending over him, touched him on the shoulder, saying: 

“Awake, Eric Brighteyes!  Awake! awake!”

It seemed to him that he awoke and said “What tidings, Swanhild?” and that she answered: 

“Ill tidings, Eric—­so ill that I am come hither from Straumey[*] to tell of them—­ay, come walking on the seas.  Had Gudruda done so much, thinkest thou?”

[*] Stroma, the southernmost of the Orkneys.

“Gudruda is no witch,” he said in his dream.

“Nay, but I am a witch, and it is well for thee, Eric.  Ay, I am a witch.  Now do I seem to sleep at Atli’s side, and lo! here I stand by thine, and I must journey back again many a league before another day be born—­ay, many a league, and all for love of thee, Eric!  Hearken, for not long may the spell endure.  I have seen this by my magic:  that these men who bound thee come even now to take thee, sleeping, and cast thee and thy thrall into the deep, there to drown.”