sea with me. I thought that this man was dead till the first red rays of dawn lit upon his face, whereon he sat up, and I saw that he was Steinar.
"Thus we meet again, my brother," I said in a quiet voice. "Well, Steinar, look upon your work." And I pointed to the dead and dying and to the ships around, whence came the sound of groans.
Steinar stared at me and asked in a thick voice:
"Was it with you, Olaf, that I fell into the sea?"
"Even so, Steinar."
"I knew it not in the darkness, Olaf. If I had known, never would I have lifted sword against you."
"What did that matter, Steinar, when you had already pierced my heart, though not with a sword?"
At these words Steinar moaned aloud, then said:
"For the second time you have saved my life."
"Aye, Steinar; but who knows whether I can do so for a third time? Yet take comfort, for if I may I will, for thus shall I be best avenged."
"A white vengeance," said Steinar. "Oh, this is not to be borne." And drawing a knife he wore at his girdle, he strove to kill himself.
But I, who was watching, snatched it away, then gave an order.
"Bind this man and keep him safe. Also bring him drink and a cloak to cover him."
"Best kill the dog," grumbled the captain, to whom I spoke.
"I kill that one who lays a finger on him," I replied.
Someone whispered into the captain's ear, whereon he nodded and laughed savagely.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, "I am a thickhead. I had
