Now this sacking of the town of Ipswich brought terror into the hearts of the men of East Anglia, who well knew how useless it would be for them to appeal for help to King Ethelred. There were brave men in that part of the country, however, who, at the first alarm of the landing of the Norsemen, made themselves ready to defend their homes and the homes of their neighbours. Chief among these was a certain holy and valiant man named Brihtnoth. He was at this time Earldorman of East Anglia. He had already done great work in spreading the Christian faith among the poor and ignorant people over whom he stood in authority, and his beneficent gifts to the monasteries of Ely and Ramsey had won for him the reputation almost of a saint. The monks regarded him as a man of quiet and thoughtful life, absorbed in acts of charity; but he proved that he could be a man of action also, for he was soon to become the hero of one of the most famous and disastrous battles ever fought on English soil.

When Brihtnoth heard that the vikings had taken possession of Ipswich he put aside his books, and, taking down his sword, rode about the country side gathering men about him. He assembled a goodly army of soldiers, both archers and swordmen, and marched towards the coast. It is told that during this march he came to a certain monastery and asked for food for his army. The abbot declared that he would willingly entertain the Earldorman and such well born men as were with him, but would not undertake to feed the whole host. Brihtnoth answered that he would take nothing in which all his soldiers could not share, so he marched on to the next monastery, where he fared with more success.

Now it speedily came to the ears of Olaf Triggvison that this army was being assembled against him, and he sent out spies, who in time came back with the news that Brihtnoth was encamped upon a hillside near the town of Maldon, in Essex.

Olaf at once weighed anchor, and took his fleet southward past the Naze until he came to the mouth of the river Panta (now called the Blackwater). He led his ships inward on the top of the tide. Two hours' rowing brought him within sight of the houses of Maldon. The town stood upon a hill overlooking the river, which at this point branched off in two separate streams, one stream passing by the foot of the hill, the other flowing at a little distance to the north and passing under a strong stone built bridge. Olaf brought his ships into the branch nearest to the town, and his men, on landing, gathered in a confused crowd in occupation of the space between the two streams.

Brihtnoth had already taken up a position of vantage to the north of the bridge, having both streams between his army and the town. He had arrayed his troops in a compact mass in the form of a wedge or triangle, whose narrower point was opposite to the roadway of the bridge. The men occupying the outer lines stood with their large shields locked together so closely that they made a strong rampart or shield fortress, behind which the archers and spearmen might remain in safety while assailing their advancing foes. It was considered very important in the early part of a battle that the shield fortress should not be broken or opened, nor could such a breach be easily effected except by overpowering strength or stratagem. Mounted on a sturdy little white horse, the Earldorman rode backward and forward in front of the lines to see that his men stood firm in their ranks. When all was ready he alighted, sent his horse to the rear, and took his place among his troops, determined to share every danger of his lowlier comrades. From where he stood he could see the fair haired vikings making a landing. Their great numbers appalled him, but he spoke no word of fear. Presently he noticed two men whom, by their glittering gold helmets and beautiful shields, he took to be chiefs. They walked some distance apart from the host of shipmen, and took their stand on a grassy knoll overlooking the opposing armies.

"Not wrong were the reports we heard concerning these sea wolves," said he to a young man at his side. "Look but at those two chiefs standing apart! Giants they are in sooth. The younger one--he with the flowing yellow hair, and with the belt of gold about his thick arm--is surely a head and shoulders taller than any East Anglian I have seen. It will be a tough encounter if we come hand to hand with that man. But let us all be brave, for we have our homes to defend, and God will not desert us in our hour of danger. And we have many good chances on our side. Very often the more numerous host does not gain the victory, if there are bold and fearless men against them."

The yellow haired chief was Olaf Triggvison, and Guthmund was his companion. They had climbed the higher ground, so that they might better calculate upon the chances of the coming battle, and great was their surprise to see how skilfully Brihtnoth had arrayed his men. That triangle form in which the English stood was called by the Scandinavians the "swine array", and it was believed to have been introduced by Odin himself. Olaf well knew how strong that formation always proved to be against the assaults of an enemy, and how almost impossible it was for human force to break through it.

"The man who has marshalled that little army is no unworthy foe," said he; "and I think we shall do well to carefully consider our plans before making an advance. Well has he foreseen that we should land upon this spot, and he has so placed his host at the farther side of the river that we shall not reach him without great difficulty. The water is deep, and the rising tide flows quick and strong."

"But there is the bridge by which we may cross," returned Guthmund.

Olaf smiled and shook his head.

"The bridge is very narrow," he said, "and the old chief has wisely placed three of his champions there to defend it and bar our passage."

"Though he had placed there three score of champions, I see no danger in our crossing," said Guthmund.

"Nevertheless, the bridge would still be secure to those who hold it," answered Olaf. "Indeed, I would myself engage to hold such a position with my own hand against a far greater force than ours. It is but a matter of endurance, and one good sword, well wielded, is as good as the strongest gate ever made."

As he spoke he noticed the figure of Earldorman Brihtnoth, who now left his place in the ranks, and advanced towards the three champions at the bridge. The old man stood there awhile giving some directions to the bridge defenders. He was about to return when he saw that Olaf was sending Guthmund down to him with some message, and he waited.

When Guthmund stepped upon the bridge he laid down his sword upon the ground. Brihtnoth went forward to meet him.

"What is your will?" asked the Earldorman.

"I have come with a message from my king," answered the viking.

"What says your king?"

"He says that since it appears to be the common practice in this country for kings and earls to buy off an unwelcome foe with offers of gold, he will engage to withdraw and go back to his ships on your paying him a sum of money that he will name."

Brihtnoth drew back in anger at such an offer, not guessing that King Olaf was but testing his bravery.

"And who is it that has told your chief that such is the habit of our English kings?" he demanded.

"Little need was there for anyone to tell the tale," answered Guthmund, "for it is well known throughout the countries of the vikings that King Ethelred has not so many brave warriors at his call that he can afford to lose them for the sake of a few bags of gold. Not once but many times has he thus sought to buy off the Norsemen."

"Go back to your chief," cried Brihtnoth, with an indignant sweep of his arm; "go back and tell him that steel, and not gold, is the only metal that can now judge between him and me!"

"It is the metal that King Olaf has ever favoured," returned Guthmund; "and right glad will he be to hear that there is at least one man among the English who is brave enough to be of that same opinion."

So, when Olaf's messenger returned, there arose a loud cry from the deep throats of the vikings. The cry had scarcely died away ere the air was filled with arrows, that fell in a heavy shower among the English. Then Brihtnoth's archers answered the challenge, and the battle began in good earnest. For a long time the two armies stood facing each other, with the river running between, and arrows alone were the weapons used. But at last one of Olaf's captains--Justin it was--ran forward, sword in hand and shield on arm, towards the bridge. He was closely followed by a large number of the vikings.

Bravely did the three champions stand at their post. With their feet firmly set, and their shields before them, they met the onrush of their foes, wielding their long swords with such precision and strength that Justin and five of his fellows fell dead without striking a single blow. Onward the vikings pressed, leaping over the bodies of their fallen companions, but only to be themselves driven back again under the terrible blows that met them. Very soon the roadway of the bridge was so crowded with the slain that many of the men fell over the parapet into the deep water of the river. A party of Olaf's bowmen stood by the nearer end of the bridge, assailing the three dauntless defenders with their arrows. Again the northmen charged. This time they were led by Kolbiorn Stallare, who advanced slowly, and not with a heedless rush as the others had done. He carried his heavy battleaxe; but before he could raise his weapon to strike, the nearest of the defenders stepped unexpectedly forward and dealt him a tremendous blow which made him stagger backward. The blow was met by his strong shield, and he received no hurt; but in stepping back he tripped upon the arm of one of his fallen comrades, and was borne down under the weight of the men who, following close behind him, rushed headlong to the death that he had escaped. There Kolbiorn lay for a long while, and Olaf Triggvison, who had seen him fall, believed him to be dead.

Now it was Guthmund and not Olaf who had given the command to the Norsemen to attempt the taking of the bridge, and Olaf was very angry at seeing so many of his best men sacrificed. He had seen that the tide in the creek was ebbing, and that very soon the bridge would cease to be an important post. Accordingly he ordered that those who were still endeavouring to cross should be withdrawn.

The three champions who had thus succeeded in keeping the bridge were named Wulfstan, Elfhere, and Maccus. Wulfstan was the man who had struck Kolbiorn Stallare, and he knew that the blow could not have killed him. So when the vikings had left the bridge he rescued Kolbiorn from under the weight of slain men who had fallen over him, and Kolbiorn limped back to the rear of the Norse archers who, all this time, had kept up a constant firing of arrows upon the Englishmen.

When at last the tide had fallen, and the ford could be passed, the bridge defenders retreated, and Brihtnoth allowed the northmen to cross over unhindered. Olaf led his chosen men across by the road, while the larger number of his warriors waded through the stream. And now the fight began in desperate earnest.

Separating his forces into three divisions, Olaf advanced to the attack. He directed his left wing, under the command of Guthmund, upon Brihtnoth's right flank; his right wing, under Harald Biornson, wheeled round to the attack of Brithnoth's left. He reserved for himself the position which was considered the most difficult to deal with--the point where the English chief himself stood, surrounded by his strongest and most experienced soldiers. This was the narrowest part of the formation, and Olaf knew that if he could but break through the wall of shields at this point the whole mass of men, now so compact and impregnable, would quickly be thrown into confusion.

Kolbiorn fought at Olaf's right hand, and Thorgils Thoralfson at his left. Behind and about them were a thousand of the most valiant vikings and berserks.

The attack began on all sides with the hurling of javelins, but very soon the northmen approached closer to their enemies, and carried on a closer combat with their swords, and at first the vikings got the worst of it.

Olaf and his fellows had already caught sight of the white bearded Brihtnoth, and they were making their way towards him when Thorgils Thoralfson fell forward, pierced to the heart with a spear. Now, the spear was one which Olaf himself had before thrown into the midst of the English ranks, and it had now been returned in such a manner that Olaf at once knew it had been hurled by some man trained as the vikings were in the use of the weapon. Advancing yet nearer, he searched with quick eye among the faces of the men before him. As he did so another spear was flung; this time it was aimed at Kolbiorn, who caught it on his uplifted shield.

Kolbiorn had seen the face of the man who had thus picked him out, and throwing his shield aside he gripped his battleaxe, and flinging himself with all his great strength against the wall of men he burst through the ranks. Olaf saw him fighting his way into the midst of the soldiers, who fell back before the weighty axe. At last Kolbiorn reached the man he sought, and engaged with him hand to hand, while Olaf and the vikings followed into the breach. In a very few moments Olaf was at Kolbiorn's side, and then he too saw the face of the man who had killed Thorgils. It was the face of his own fellow-slave in far off Esthonia, his companion in Holmgard, his shipmate Egbert, whom he had believed to be drowned.

The duel between Kolbiorn and Egbert lasted for several minutes, but it was evident that Kolbiorn was but playing with his adversary, for he gave him many chances.

"Less skilful are you than when we last met," he said with a laugh, "and your wrist is not so strong. Gladly would I have given you a few more lessons had opportunity served; but instead I must now repay the blow you gave me over our game of chess."

Egbert then fell, and Kolbiorn turned to the help of Olaf, who was now engaged with the English chief and three of his special comrades.

Brihtnoth wanted to fight Olaf sword to sword, but Olaf respected his bravery and his grey hairs, and chose rather to encounter a very broad chested Englishman, who had already slain three of the vikings. As Kolbiorn entered the fray he saw Brihtnoth turn away from Olaf and cross swords with one of the berserks. The berserk fell, with a great cut across his head. His place was taken by one of his shipmates, whom the old chief also overcame. The Earldorman was wounded, but he went on bravely fighting until at last he was cut down by a viking named Harek the Hawk.

The spot where the English chief had fallen became now the centre of the battle. Here, in defence of their dead leader's body, the bravest among the English fought and fell. Wulfstan, Maccus, and Elfhere--the three who had held the bridge--again fought shoulder to shoulder at this place. Wulfstan was vanquished by Olaf, and his two companions fell to Kolbiorn's blade. The names of some of the other English warriors are Alfwine, a lord of the Mercians, Eseferth, Brihtwold, Edward the Long, Leofsuna, and Dunnere; all of whom fell in defending the body of Brihtnoth. One of the vikings, thinking that Olaf meant to gain possession of it, carried off the body of the dead hero; but Olaf would not allow his men to do dishonour to so brave a foe, and he afterwards delivered the body to Brihtnoth's friends, who gave it a worthy resting place in Ely cathedral.

Meanwhile the battle had fared ill with the East Anglians on the other parts of the field. The breaking of the fortress of shields had thrown the ranks into confusion. The vikings, under Guthmund and Harek, followed up their advantage and fought with fierce onslaught. The English were but ill armed; many of them had bills and swords, others had spears and arrows, but some had no better weapons than such as they had themselves contrived out of their farm implements.

When it was seen that the northmen were gaining the victory on all hands many of the English began to lose courage, and one, a caitiff named Godric, mounted the horse on which Brihtnoth had ridden to the field, so that many thought that it was the Earldorman himself who had fled. After this there was a general retreat, and so the battle of Maldon ended.

Olaf Triggvison made no assault upon the town, but pitched his tents on the high ground between the two streams where he had landed. He allowed the East Anglians to carry off their dead and give them Christian burial. His own dead numbered over four hundred, and he had them laid in a mound with all their armour and weapons, and built a cairn over them according to the heathen custom.

He lay with his ships off Maldon during the rest of the summer, and raided in Essex and Suffolk without hindrance.

Now it might be thought that King Ethelred, hearing, as he soon heard, of the taking of Ipswich and of the defeat of the East Anglians at Maldon, would lose no time in gathering an army to expel the invaders.

The spirit of the nation was ready for a vigorous resistance of the northmen, and with a few such men as Brihtnoth to lead them the English might without much difficulty have driven every viking out of the land. But Ethelred was a man of quite another stamp from the valiant Earldorman of East Anglia, and he adopted the fatal system of looking to gold to do the work of steel.

Olaf Triggvison and a party of his captains returned to the camp one day, after a great boar hunt, and they found that in their absence certain messengers had arrived from Andover, where the king held his court. Olaf directed that the men should be brought to him in his tent, and there he held speech with them. On entering the tent the messengers set down before the viking chief two heavy bags containing the sum of ten thousand pounds in gold, This money, the men said, had been sent by King Ethelred as a gift to the leader of the Norsemen.

"And for what reason should King Ethelred send such a gift to me who have done him no good service, but have only been despoiling his lands and disturbing his peaceful subjects?"

"It is because the king wishes you to cease your ravaging in East Anglia and take away your ships and men," returned the spokesman. "That is the condition he imposes on your accepting the gold."

"And how if I refuse the gold and say that it does not suit my purpose to remove my ships?" asked Olaf. "Will your king then march with his armies against the vikings, and give us the exercise of another good battle?"

The messenger shrugged his shoulders.

"King Ethelred does not doubt that you will take the gold," said he. "And as to his marching against you, of that matter he has said no word."

"In that case you may leave the money in my keeping," said Olaf. "And I charge you to thank King Ethelred for his generosity. It so happens that this part of the country is already becoming somewhat bare of food and we are wearying for new scenes. I think, therefore, that before the winter days are far advanced we shall weigh anchor and set sail. But our going shall not be one day earlier on account of Ethelred's desire to be rid of us."

The messengers wanted a more definite promise from Olaf that he would not only sail away at this present time but also that he would not again invade the English coasts. But to this Olaf would not agree. Either the king must be satisfied that the vikings intended to quit the shores of East Anglia in a few weeks' time, or he might take back his gold and suffer his kingdom to be invaded and ravaged at whatever point the Norsemen chose to make a landing.

It seemed for a long time that they could come to no agreement; but finally the matter was so arranged that the gold was delivered into Olaf's hands and the messengers departed, with a mere half promise of peace and the assurance that Olaf would remove his ships within twenty days. Olaf did not hold himself bound to keep these conditions; nevertheless he resolved to abide by them. He had already discovered that his forces were too small to attempt, with any certainty of success, a deliberate conquest of England; and, indeed, even before the arrival of Ethelred's messengers, he had determined to presently withdraw his fleet until such times as he had gathered about him a host large enough and strong enough to lay siege to London. His departure from Maldon was therefore of his own choosing and not the result of any threats upon the part of the English king.

Meanwhile Olaf did not lose sight of the fact that the foolish policy of King Ethelred, instead of having the effect of securing the kingdom against invasion, only set forth a very strong encouragement to the vikings to repeat their incursions as often as they were in want of money. Ethelred and his advisers seem never to have learned this lesson, and for many years after the battle of Maldon the sea rovers, both Danish and Norwegian, continued to harry the English coasts, with the invariable result that, so soon as they had plundered a few monasteries and reduced a few villages to ashes, they were sure to receive the offer of a very handsome bribe as an inducement to put to sea again.

On a certain day in the late winter of the next year Olaf Triggvison led his fleet across the turbulent waters of the Pentland Firth, and steered his course for the islands of Orkney. On his way northward along the coasts of England he had many times made a landing to plunder some seaside village and to replenish his stores of food and water. He had harried wide on both shores of the Humber and in Northumberland, had stormed King Ida's fortress of Bamborough, and made a raid upon Berwick. In Scotland, also, he had ravaged and plundered. But of these adventures there remains no record. Before the time of his crossing to the Orkneys he had lost five of his ships and a large number of his men, and from this it may be judged that he had either encountered very stormy weather or suffered some reverse at the hands of his enemies.

The snow still lay deep upon the islands when he entered the wide channel named Scapa Flow, and anchored his fleet under shelter of the high island of Hoy. Many of his vessels were by this time in need of repair, so he crossed the sound and beached them near to where the port of Stromness now lies, and at this place he took up his quarters until the coming of the summer.

The Orkney Islands were then, and for many generations afterwards, peopled by Scandinavian vikings and their families, who paid tax and tribute to Norway. Olaf therefore found himself among men who spoke his own tongue, and who were glad enough to make friends with a chief, of whom it could be said that he had done great and valiant deeds in battle. One thing which more than all else won these people to him was their knowledge that he was the same Ole the Esthonian who, with Vagn Akison, had stood out to the end in the great sea fight against Hakon of Lade. Earl Hakon was now the ruler over the Orkney islanders, but he was beginning to be so bitterly hated by them that they looked upon all his enemies as their own particular friends. For a little time they had centred their hopes in Earl Sigvaldi of Jomsburg, who had lately taken refuge in the Orkneys. But Sigvaldi had now gone back to his stronghold on the Baltic, in the hope of restoring his scattered company of vikings. The coming of Olaf was therefore regarded with great favour by the Orcadian vikings, who thought it possible that he would join them in an attempt to drive Earl Hakon from the Norwegian throne.

In order to delay Olaf's departure from the islands the people got him to help them in building a great temple on the shores of one of their lakes, and, when the temple was finished and duly dedicated to Odin, they proposed to Olaf that he should lead an expedition across to Norway. Olaf replied that he did not consider the time ripe for such an attempt, and that for the present he had other plans in hand; but he bade them, in the meantime, busy themselves with the building of ships.

Now while Olaf was still in Orkney there came one day into Scapa Flow one of the ships of King Sweyn Forkbeard of Denmark. Olaf learned from her captain that the Dane folk had rebelled against Sweyn, for the reason that, having accepted Christianity and compelled his people to follow his example, he had now thrown off the true belief and turned back to the worship of the heathen gods, demanding that his subjects should again acknowledge Odin and Thor to be greater than the God of the Christians. Rather than do this, the Danes had resolved to drive their unbelieving king into exile; and Sweyn Forkbeard, having lost his throne, had taken to vikingry.

On hearing this, Olaf Triggvison gave the ship captain a message to take back to his master, bidding Sweyn remember the vow he had sworn at his inheritance feast, and saying that if he had a mind to fulfil that vow he might now make the attempt, for that he--Ole the Esthonian--was now preparing his forces for a great invasion of England, and would be well pleased if Sweyn would join him in the expedition. The place of the gathering of the forces was to be Ipswich, in East Anglia, and the time of meeting was to be the middle of the harvest month in the next summer.

Olaf did not wait in the Orkneys for an answer to this message. His vikings were already growing weary of idleness and eager to be again upon the sea. So the ships were put in readiness, and when a fair wind offered, the anchors were weighed and the sails set, and the fleet sped westward through Roy Sound towards Cape Wrath. Thence they sailed down among the Hebrides--or the Southern Isles, as the Norsemen always called them. Here Olaf had many battles and won many ships from the descendants of Harald Fairhair's rebel subjects, who had made settlements in the Isles. Here, too, he gained some hundreds of men to his following. He harried also in the north parts of Ireland, and had certain battles in the Island of Man. By this time the summer was far spent, so he sailed east away to Cumberland and there rested throughout the winter.

His men thought that this part of England, with its mountains and lakes, was so much like their own birthland in distant Norway, that they showed great unwillingness to leave it. Many did, indeed, remain, and the settlements they made in the lake country have left traces which even to the present day may be recognized, not only in the remains of heathen temples and tombs, but also in the names of places and in certain Norse words that occur in the common speech of the Cumbrian folk.

From Cumberland Olaf sailed south to Wales. There again he harried wide about, and also in Cornwall, and at length he came to the Scilly Isles. King Athelstane had conquered these islands half a century before, and had established a monastery there, the ruins of which may still be seen.

Now when Olaf Triggvison lay at Scilly, sheltering from a storm that had driven him out of his intended course, he heard that in the isle of Tresco there was a certain soothsayer who was said to be well skilled in the foretelling of things which had not yet come to pass. Olaf fell a-longing to test the spaeing of this man.

"I will try him by means of a trick," Olaf said one day to Kolbiorn; "and in this wise: You shall go to him instead of me, and say that you are King Ole the Esthonion; and if he believes you, then is he no soothsayer."

Now Olaf was already famed in all lands for being fairer and nobler than all other men, and he chose Kolbiorn as his messenger because he was the fairest and biggest of his men and most resembled himself, and he sent him ashore, arrayed in the most beautiful clothing.

Kolbiorn searched long among the trees and rocks before he found the little cave in which the lonely hermit dwelt; and when he entered he saw a gray bearded old man, deep in meditation before a crucifix, and wearing the habit of a Christian priest.

The hermit looked up at the tall figure of his visitor, and waited for him to speak. Kolbiorn answered as Olaf had bidden him, saying that his name was King Ole. But the hermit shook his head.

"King thou art not," said he gravely; "but my counsel to thee is, that thou be true to thy King."

No other word did he speak, and Kolbiorn turned away and fared back to Olaf, who, on hearing of the answer that had been given, longed all the more to meet this hermit, whom he now believed to be verily a soothsayer.

So on the next day, while the wind was high and the waves broke with a heavy roar upon the rocks, Olaf dressed himself very simply, without any body armour, and went ashore, attended by two shieldmen. When he entered the hermit's cell he found the old man sitting at an oaken table with a roll of parchment before him, upon which he was inscribing some holy legend. He greeted Olaf most kindly, and when they had spoken together for a while, Olaf asked him what he could say as to how he should speed coming by his rightful inheritance or any other good fortune.

Then the hermit answered:

"In the time that is to come, thou shalt be a very glorious king and do glorious deeds. Many men shalt thou bring to the right troth and to christening, helping thereby both thyself and thy fellow men."

"As to the first part of your prophecy--that I shall become a great king, that I can well believe," returned Olaf; "but that I shall ever help men to christening, I cannot believe, for I am now, and always shall be, a faithful worshipper of the gods of Asgard and an enemy to all believers in Christ."

"Nevertheless," answered the hermit, "the second part of what I have said is even more certain to come true than the first; and, to the end that my words may be trusted, take this as a token: Hard by thy ship thou shall presently fall into a snare of a host of men, and battle will spring thence, and thou wilt be sorely hurt, and of this wound thou shalt look to die and be borne to ship on shield; yet thou shalt be whole of thy hurt within seven nights and be speedily christened thereafter."

Olaf laughed at the good man, and presently went his way. But as he passed downward towards the boat that awaited him among the rocks, he was met by a party of unpeaceful men who fell suddenly upon him with their swords. Olaf called upon his two guards, who had lagged behind, but ere they came to his help he, being without any arms, received a great sword thrust in his chest. His assailants fled when they saw the two guards approaching from among the trees, and Olaf was left bleeding where he fell. His two men lifted him upon one of their shields, and carried him down to the boat and bore him wounded upon his ship. For six days he lay unconscious, and, as all thought, upon the point of death. But on the seventh night the danger was passed, and thereafter he speedily grew well.

Then Olaf deemed that in having foretold this matter so exactly the old hermit had proved himself to be indeed a very wise soothsayer. So he went ashore a second time, and the two talked much and long together.

It seemed that Cerdic was the hermit's name. He had once been a bondslave among Norsemen, and had known Olaf's father, King Triggvi, whom Olaf personally resembled. He could speak very well in the Norse tongue, and his soft and gentle voice was very soothing to all who heard it. At first he spoke of the ways of heathen men, of their revengeful spirit and their cruelty in warfare, and he condemned their offering of blood sacrifices and their worship of graven images. Such gods as Odin and Thor, Njord and Frey, were, he said, but the creations of men's poetic fancy, and had no real existence. Odin was at one time but an earthly man, with all man's faults and sins. The earthquake and the thunder had nothing to do with the rolling of Thor's chariot or the throwing of Thor's hammer. The waves of the ocean would rise in anger or fall into calm peace though the name of Njord had never been spoken; and the seasons would change in their order, fields and pastures would grow, without the favour of Frey.

So spoke the hermit, and then he told the story of the Creation and of Adam's Fall, and showed how Christ had come to preach peace on earth and to save the world. It was a principle of the Christian faith; said Cerdic, that men should remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy, that they should not bow down to graven images, that they should not steal, nor be covetous, nor do murder, nor bear false witness; that they should love their enemies and bless those who cursed them.

Olaf listened in patience to all these things, asking many questions concerning them. At last Cerdic appealed to him and besought him most earnestly to come to repentance and to make himself a faithful follower of Christ, so that he might at the close of his earthly life be worthy to enter into the kingdom of heaven.

Now Olaf Triggvison had until this time lived always in the firm hope that when he died he would be admitted into the shining hall of Valhalla, where he might expect to meet all the great heroes of past times. He believed that Odin would receive him there, and reward him well for all the glorious deeds that he had done. So he was not at all willing to abandon this Norseman's faith in a future life which, as men promised, should be full of warfare by day and of merry carousing by night.

Yet it was evident that Cerdic had not spoken without good effect; for Olaf agreed--as many of the Scandinavians did in these times--that he would at once be christened, on the one condition that, while calling himself a follower of Christ, he should not be expected to abandon either his belief in Odin or his hopes of Valhalla. The holy man of Scilly well knew that this divided faith would not last long, but he was also assured that in the contest the victory would certainly rest with Christ.

Accordingly Olaf was christened, with all his warriors and shipmen. He lay among the Scilly Isles for many days thereafter, and learned the true faith so well that it remained his guiding light throughout the rest of his life, and made him, as shall presently be seen, one of the most zealous Christians of his time.

Now, as the summer days passed by and it drew near to the harvest time, Olaf bethought him of his tryst with King Sweyn Forkbeard, so he raised his anchors and sped out into the open main and round by the forelands, and so north to Ipswich. It was three years since he had first besieged the East Anglian town, and in the interval the folk had returned to their devastated dwellings and built them anew. Olaf now took forcible possession of the town for a second time. He was not yet so entirely a Christian that he had any scruples in attacking Christian folk and turning them out of their homes.

He lay with his ships in the Orwell for three weeks, and at the end of that time King Sweyn and his fleet arrived from the Baltic. Olaf had already gathered about him some fifty-five vessels of war, fully manned and equipped; and with those which Sweyn added to the number, he had now a force of ninety-four ships of all sizes, from small skiffs of ten banks of oars and a crew of a hundred men, up to great dragonships with thirty pairs of oars, two towering masts, and a complete company of about four hundred seamen and warriors. The whole force of ninety-four ships carried with them some thirty thousand men.

This was not to be one of the old plundering raids of a body of adventurers seeking merely to better their fortunes by winning themselves new homes at the point of the sword. It was an expedition greater than any that Brihtnoth had ever met with steel or Ethelred with gold, and its purpose was one of deliberately planned invasion and conquest.

At first when Olaf and Sweyn met and joined their fleets and armies there was a disagreement between them as to which chief was to assume the higher command. Sweyn declared that the leading position was his by the right that he was a king, and should be accorded the more power in all things over Olaf, who (as Sweyn supposed) was lowly born. But Olaf stoutly maintained that as it was he who had proposed the expedition, and as he had the larger number of men and ships, the sole command should be his own, Sweyn taking the second place. In the end it was agreed that this should be so, and that, in the event of their success, they were to divide the kingdom of England between them--Sweyn taking the Northern half, including Northumbria and the upper part of Mercia, and Olaf the Southern half, including East Anglia and the whole of Wessex.

The first point of attack was to be London--a city which, although not yet the capital of the kingdom, was a chief bulwark of the land and daily becoming one of the most important centres of trade in Western Europe. Alfred the Great, who had himself rescued the city from the Danes, had built a strong fortress for her defence, and her citizens had always been regarded as among the most valiant and patriotic in all England. Olaf Triggvison was well aware that if he should succeed in taking London, his conquest of the rest of Ethelred's realm would be a comparatively easy matter. Unfortunately for his plans, he did not foresee the obstacles which were to meet him.

He led his procession of battleships up the Thames. Never before had such a splendid array been seen upon those waters. The early morning sun shone upon the gilded birds and dragons on the tops of the masts. At the prow of each vessel there was reared the tall figure of some strange and terrible animal, formed of carved and gilded wood or of wrought brass, silver, or even amber. Many of the ships had sails made of the finest silk, woven in beautiful designs. The decks were crowded with men whose glittering spears and burnished helmets gave them a very warlike aspect, and struck terror into the hearts of the people who saw them from the river's banks.

The alarm spread quickly from point to point, and before the invaders had come well within sight of the city the gates were securely closed and barricaded, and the valiant burghers were fully prepared to make a stout resistance.

As the ships came abreast of the Tower they were assailed by volleys of well aimed arrows, fired from the battlements. Heedless of Olaf's plans, King Sweyn drew his division yet nearer under the walls, with the intention of making an assault upon the citadel. But the attempt was useless. The defenders were hidden behind the ramparts and beyond reach of all missiles, while Sweyn's forces were fully exposed to the ceaseless hail of arrows and stones which seemed to issue out of the very walls. So many of his men fell that Sweyn was forced to retire.

The garrison could frustrate an assault upon the fortress, but they could not prevent so vast a number of ships from passing higher up the river and making an attack upon the old Roman rampart. While King Sweyn crossed to the opposite side of the stream and led an attack upon Southwark, Olaf effected a landing near Billing's Gate and directed all his strength upon the wall. He lost many men in the attempt, but at last a breach was made, and at the head of many hundreds of desperate warriors he entered the city. He had depended upon Sweyn following him; and had the Danish king been content to obey, London might indeed have been taken by sheer strength. As it was, however, Olaf quickly found that he had made a fatal mistake. Vast crowds of armed citizens met him at the end of each narrow street and dealt the invaders such lusty blows, with their bills and swords and volleys of heavy stones, that those who were not maimed or killed outright were forced back by overpowering strength, their ranks being driven into hopeless confusion. At one moment Olaf Triggvison found himself, with some six or seven of his men, surrounded by several scores of the defenders. He fought his way through them back to the city wall, where, through the breach that had been made, his hosts were escaping on board the ships. The besiegers were utterly defeated. Once again had the men of London rescued their city from its foes.

Sweyn Forkbeard had fared no better than Olaf had done. He had made a bold attempt to burn the town, but, like Olaf, he had been driven back to his ships with great slaughter.

On that same day the two defeated chiefs sailed away in wrath and sorrow, and with the loss of seven ships and two thousand men.

Now, under Alfred or Athelstane such a reverse as the invaders had met with before London would surely have been followed up by some crushing victory. But under the wretched Ethelred there was no attempt made to prevent the more fearful desolation of other parts of the kingdom. Olaf and Sweyn were calmly allowed to avenge their defeat by ravaging the coast at pleasure, and to pillage, burn and murder without meeting the slightest resistance. At the mouth of the Thames the two chiefs had divided their forces, Sweyn sailing northward towards the Humber, while Olaf took his course southward, and ravaged far and wide in the old kingdoms of Kent and Sussex.

Late in the summer, Olaf crossed into Hampshire, and now at last King Ethelred was roused, for the invaders threatened not only the royal city of Andover but also the royal person. The king had no army of sufficient strength to encounter his Norse enemy, and his navy was of still less consequence. The only course he seems to have thought of, therefore, was the old cowardly policy of again buying peace with gold. Olaf was allowed to anchor his fleet for the winter at Southampton, and in order to avert any raiding into the surrounding country, Ethelred levied a special tax upon the people of Wessex to supply the crews with food and pay. He also levied a general tax upon all England to raise the sum of sixteen thousand pounds as a bribe to the invaders to quit the kingdom.

This large sum of money was conveyed to Olaf Triggvison by the king's ambassadors, among whom was a certain Bishop Elfheah--a zealous Christian, who, in addition to gaining Olaf's solemn promise that he would keep the peace, took upon himself the task of converting the young chief to the Christian faith. Olaf had already been baptized by the good hermit of the Scillys; but he had not yet received the rite of confirmation. He now declared that he was willing to become entirely a Christian, and to set aside his belief in the old gods of Scandinavia. The bishop then led Olaf to the court at Andover, where Ethelred received him with every honour and enriched him with royal gifts. At the confirmation of Olaf, which took place with great pomp, King Ethelred himself was present, and even stood sponsor.

Olaf lived for many weeks at Andover, as King Ethelred's friendly guest, and before he left to join his ships he signed a treaty in which he engaged never again to invade England. This promise he faithfully kept, and for a time there was peace in the land. Ethelred believed that he had now rid his kingdom of all danger from the vikings. But he did not reckon with King Sweyn Forkbeard. Tempted by the great sums of money that had been extorted from the English, Sweyn returned again and again, and at last succeeded in expelling Ethelred from the land. For many years Sweyn was the virtual ruler of England, and he thus prepared the way for his son, Canute the Mighty, who was afterwards the chosen king of the English people.

Now, while Olaf Triggvison was still the guest of King Ethelred, there also lived at the court a certain princess named Gyda. She was the sister of the King of Dublin, in Ireland, and she was considered very beautiful. A great many wooers sought to wed with her, and among others a man named Alfwin, a renowned champion and man slayer. A day was fixed on which Gyda had promised to choose a husband, and many high born men had come together, hoping to be chosen. All were splendidly attired.

Olaf Triggvison, clad in a coarse, wet weather cloak with a fur hood, stood apart with a few of his comrades, merely to look on.

Gyda went here and there among her wooers, but seemed to find none that pleased her. But at length she came to where Olaf stood, with his head half hidden under his fur hood. She went nearer to him, lifted up his hood and looked long and earnestly into his eyes.

"A taller and handsomer man I have never seen," said she. "Who art thou, and whence came you?"

"I am an outland man here," he answered; "and I am named Ole the Esthonian."

Gyda said, "Wilt thou have me? Then will I choose thee for my husband."

Olaf replied that he was not unwilling to take her at her word. So they talked the matter over and, being of one mind, they were forthwith betrothed.

Alfwin was ill content at this, and in great wrath he challenged Olaf to fight. It was the custom of those days in England that if any two men contended about a matter they should each bring twelve men and dispute their rights in a pitched battle. So when these two rivals met, Olaf gave the word to his men to do as he did. He had a great axe, and when Alfwin attacked him with his sword, he quickly overpowered him, and then bound him fast with ropes. In like wise were all Alfwin's men defeated; and Olaf forced them to depart from the land and never come back. Alfwin was a very wealthy man, and his wealth was forfeited to Olaf. Then Olaf wedded Princess Gyda, and went with her to Ireland, and lived in great happiness for many days.

During all this time of Olaf Triggvison's wanderings Earl Hakon of Lade continued to hold the sovereign rule in Norway, and there was great peace in the land, with fruitful harvests and good fishing. In his early years he was very popular for his kindliness and generosity, his fearless courage and his great strength in battle. But it seems that the greater power which he afterwards acquired disturbed the fine balance of his mind, and he became deceitful, even to his nearest friends, and cruel to a degree which presently won for him the hatred of his people, who murmured against him in secret while fearing to break out into open rebellion.

Earl Hakon knew nothing of the strong feelings that were rising against him, nor did he doubt that he should enjoy his power unmolested to the end of his days. One thought alone disturbed his sense of security. It chanced that rumours had reached him concerning a certain viking who called himself Ole, and who was said to have won great renown in the realm of King Ethelred. Now Hakon was told that this same Ole had spent his younger days in Gardarike, and he deemed that the lad must be of the blood of the Norse kings, for it was no secret that King Triggvi Olafson had had a son who had fared east into Gardarike, and been nourished there at the court of King Valdemar, and that he was called Olaf.

Earl Hakon had sought far and wide for Olaf Triggvison, but in vain. Some men had, indeed, said that in the battle of the Jomsvikings they had seen a young champion, named Ole the Esthonian, whose aspect was that of the race of Harald Fairhair, and it was said that this same champion was one of those who had been made prisoners and put to death. But, in spite of this story, Hakon still believed in the later rumours. He believed that the adventurous Ole the Viking was none other than Olaf Triggvison, nor could he doubt that this daring young rover would sooner or later lay claim to the kingdom of Norway.

As his own popularity grew less and less, Hakon looked forward with increasing uneasiness to the inevitable conflict. He well understood the devotion of the Norse people to the family of Harald Fairhair, and he now considered that his own safety could only be secured by the death of this possible rival.

Earl Hakon had a great friend named Thorir Klakka, a man who had been many years at viking work, and had often gone on trading voyages to England and Ireland and other lands bordering on the Western Sea. The earl spoke with Thorir and confided to him his plan, bidding him go on a trading voyage to Dublin, where Ole the Esthonian was then supposed to be living, and if it was found that this man Ole was indeed the son of King Triggvi, or any other offspring of the kingly stem of the north, then Thorir was either to kill him or to entice him over to Norway where Hakon himself would deal with him.

So without delay, Thorir went forth upon his mission, and sailed west into Ireland. It was in the early springtime when he reached Dublin, and he was not long in learning that Ole was then living at the court of King Kuaran, his brother-in-law.

On a certain day Thorir was in the marketplace, buying some Irish horses that were for sale. There was a beautiful white pony that he greatly coveted, and he offered a high price for it. But there was another who offered yet more--a tall young man, with long fair hair and very clear blue eyes, who wore a very beautiful cloak of crimson silk bordered with gold lace. Thorir at once knew him to be a Norseman, and he also guessed that this was the man of whom he was in search. Now the pony at last fell to Thorir's bidding. Then Thorir took the animal by its halter and went and stood by the side of the handsome Norseman.

"I beg you will take the pony as a gift from me," said he, speaking in the English tongue; "for I see that you are a great lord in this land, and such a beautiful animal is better suited to such as you than to a mere seafarer who has little use for it."

"And why should I take such a gift from a stranger, who owes me nothing in the world?" returned Olaf Triggvison. "The pony is yours, my man, for you have bought it and paid for it in fair market. If it indeed be that you have no wish to keep the animal, then I will gladly buy it from you at the price you paid. But I cannot take it as a free gift."

Olaf paid him his price in gold of Ethelred's coinage, and sent the pony away in charge of one of his servants. But even when the business was over, Thorir did not seem willing to leave, but stood near to Olaf looking searchingly into his face.

"Why do you linger?" asked Olaf. "Is there something so very unusual about me that you stare at me so?"

"There is much that is unusual about you, lord," answered Thorir; "and little marvel is there that I should look upon you with interest. Nowhere, save in my own birthland of Norway, have I ever seen a man so tall and strong and fair."

"Certainly, there are many such men in Norway," said Olaf; "but also there are many in these western lands; as to which witness those who are about us here in this marketplace."

He glanced across to where his friend Kolbiorn Stallare was standing.

"There is one at your back who seems not less strong than I."

Thorir looked round at Kolbiorn, then back at Olaf. "You are well nigh a head and shoulders taller than that one," said he; "and there is that about you which seems to tell me you have spent the larger part of your life in Norway."

Olaf said: "Since I was a babe in arms, I have been but once in that land; and then only during two changes of the moon or so. Nevertheless, I will not deny that there is indeed a vein of the Norse blood in me, and for that reason I should be well enough pleased to hear from you some news of what has been happening in Norway these few summers past."

"Little is there to tell," returned Thorir; "for, since the rascally sons of Erik Bloodaxe were driven from the land, there have been no great wars. True it is, that Earl Sigvaldi of Jomsburg did lately make an attempt to win dominion in Norway. He led his host of vikings, with I know not how many battleships, against Earl Hakon; but he was defeated with great slaughter and took to flight."

"Of that famous fight I have already had tidings," said Olaf. "I have heard that many well known vikings were vanquished on that day, and that Vagn Akison was the only chief who stood his ground to the end."

Thorir looked with quick eyes into Olaf's face, and said: "Yes, Vagn proved himself a valiant warrior in that encounter. But there was one who was quite as brave and mighty as he--one who named himself Ole the Esthonian. Men say that this same Ole has since won great renown in England."

Olaf smiled, but was silent for some moments. Then at last he began to ask many questions concerning the Upland kings, and who of them were yet alive, and what dominion they had. Of Earl Hakon also he asked, and how well beloved he might be in the land.

Thorir answered: "The earl is so mighty a man that he now has the whole of Norway in his power, and none dares to speak a word but in his praise. And yet," he added, remembering the terms of his mission, "Earl Hakon is not all that a peaceful people would wish. Many would prefer some other monarch if they but knew where to find one better to their taste. A pity it is that there is no man of the blood of King Harald Fairhair living, whom the Norsemen could put upon the throne. None such have we to turn to; and for this cause it would little avail any man not kingly born to contend with Earl Hakon."

Now, when Olaf Triggvison heard these things, there came upon him a certain impatient desire to fare across to Norway and proclaim himself a direct descendant of Harald the Fairhaired and the rightful heir to the throne. So on the next day he again sought out the man Thorir, and when they had spoken together for a little while, Olaf said:

"A long time ago, as I have heard, there was a young son of King Triggvi Olafson who escaped with his mother, Queen Astrid, into Sweden. Has no one heard whether that lad lived or died? Why do none of the Norse folk seek him out and set him to reign over them in place of this Hakon, who is neither kingly born nor kingly mannered?"

Thorir answered: "It was not for lack of trying that Queen Gunnhild did not bring the child to his death. She pursued him far and wide; but the gods protected him and he escaped. It is said by many men that he fell into bondage; others say that he took refuge in Holmgard, where King Valdemar reigns; and I have even heard it hinted that the viking naming himself Ole the Esthonian, who has lately been warring in England, is none other than Olaf Triggvison. Howbeit, there now lives in Viken a woman who is said to be the widow of King Triggvi--Astrid is her name--and she has declared that her son Olaf is surely dead, else would he have come back to Norway of his own accord to claim his great inheritance."

As he spoke these last words Thorir saw for the first time that a change had come into Olaf's face, and he deemed that here truly was the man whom Earl Hakon had sent him to entrap. Yet he held his own counsel for a while, believing that if this were indeed Olaf Triggvison the fact would speedily be brought to light, and that he would soon have some chance of either putting him to death or of beguiling him into the hands of Earl Hakon.

For many moments Olaf strode to and fro in silence. There was a new light in his eyes, and his cheeks were flushed, and when he spoke there was a tremor in his voice that showed how deeply this news of his long lost mother had affected him.

"How long time is it since this woman, this Queen Astrid, came back into Norway?" he asked.

"Many years," answered Thorir.

"Then it may be that she is already dead?" said Olaf.

But Thorir shook his head.

"That is not likely," said he, "for I saw her with my own eyes at Yuletide past, and she was then living very happily with her husband in Viken."

"Her husband?" echoed Olaf. "And what manner of man is he? A king surely, for none but a king is worthy of such a wife."

"He is no king, but a wealthy man and of good kin," returned Thorir. "His name is Lodin, and he went oft on trading voyages aboard a ship which he owned himself. On a certain summer he made east for Esthonia and there did much business. Now, in the marketplace of one of the Esthonian seaports many thralls were brought for sale, and, among other thralls who were to be sold, Lodin saw a certain woman. As he looked upon her he knew by the beauty of her eyes that she was Astrid, Erik's daughter, who had been wedded to King Triggvi Olafson. And yet she was very unlike what she had been in her earlier days, being pale now, and lean, and ill clad. So Lodin went up to her and asked her how it fared with her, and how she came to be in such a place, and so far away from Norway. She said: 'It is a heavy tale to tell. I am sold at thrall markets and am brought hither now for sale,' and therewith she, knowing Lodin, prayed him to buy her and take her back with him to her kindred in Norway. 'I will give you a choice over that,' said he. 'I will take you back to Norway if you will wed me.' Then Astrid promised him so much, and he bought her and took her to Norway, and wedded her with her kindred's goodwill."

Then Olaf said, "This is indeed the gladdest news that I have heard for many a long year!" But the words had scarcely fallen from his lips when he realized that he had unwittingly betrayed his long kept secret, for why else should he look upon this as such glad news if he were not himself the lost son of this same Queen Astrid? And it seemed that Thorir had already guessed everything, for he said:

"Glad news must it always be when a son hears that his mother, whom he thought dead, is still alive."

"I did not tell you that Queen Astrid was my mother," Olaf cried in assumed surprise.

"There was no need to tell me," returned Thorir. "For even before I had spoken a word with you I had guessed both your name and kin. You are the son of King Triggvi Olafson. It was you who, in your infancy, were pursued through the land by Queen Gunnhild's spies. It was you who, escaping from Sweden with your mother, were captured by Esthonian vikings and sold into slavery. Then, by some chance which I know not of, you were received at the court of King Valdemar the Sunny. Afterwards you joined the vikings of Jomsburg and passed by the name of Ole the Esthonian. It was you who, in the sea fight against Earl Hakon, rivalled in skill and prowess the most famous vikings of all Scandinavia. A pity it is that instead of going a-warring in England you did not again direct your force against Earl Hakon and drive him from the throne which you, and you alone of all living men, should occupy. It is you, and not Earl Hakon, who are the rightful king of all Norway. The realm is yours by the right of your royal descent from King Harald Fairhair, and I make no doubt that were you to sail into Thrandheim fiord, you would at once be hailed by the people as their deliverer and accepted as their sovereign king."

Thus with guileful speech and subtle flattery did Thorir Klakka seek to entice Olaf over to Norway, to the end that Earl Hakon might secretly waylay him and bring him to his death, and so clear his own path of a rival whom he feared. And Olaf, listening, received it all as the very truth, nor doubted for an instant that the people were waiting ready to welcome him back to the land of his fathers.

There were many reasons urging him to this journey. In the first place, his beautiful young wife, the Princess Gyda, had died very suddenly only a few weeks after their coming to Dublin. She had been taken off by a fever, and her death gave Olaf so much sorrow that he found no more happiness in the home to which she had brought him. There was all her wealth for Olaf to enjoy if he had so wished, and he might even have become the king in Dublin. But he had wealth of his own and in plenty, and had no great desire to wait for the death of his brother-in-law before being raised to the Irish kingship. There was also the thought of again joining Queen Astrid, his mother, who had done so much for him in his infancy, and who now, doubtless, believed him to be dead. For her sake alone, if for no other, he wanted more earnestly than ever before to go back to Norway. Moreover, he had heard from Thorir that the people of Norway were still strong believers in the old gods, and in blood sacrifice and the worship of wooden images; he had heard that Earl Hakon was a bitter enemy of the Christians, that he forebade his people to give hospitality to any christened man or woman; and this knowledge had put a new ambition into Olaf's mind--the ambition to establish the Christian faith throughout the length and breadth of Norway.

So not many days had passed by ere he got ready five of his ships and set sail. He took with him several Christian priests who had followed him from England, and Thorir was in company with him. He sailed first to the South Isles, and thence up north into the Pentland Firth. Here he encountered a terrible storm. His seamen were afraid, but he called upon them to put their trust in God, and they took new courage. Yet the storm did not abate, so Olaf made for the Orkneys, and there had shelter in a quiet haven.

Right glad were the Orkney folk to see him among them once again, for now they deemed that he had come to fulfil his former promise and deliver them from the oppressive rule of Earl Hakon.

Now Thorir had charged Olaf not to reveal his true name to any man until he should be safe in Norway and sure of his success. Accordingly the islanders regarded him as a brave viking and nothing more. Nevertheless, they gathered round him, saying that they were ready and willing to follow him across the sea and to help him to drive Earl Hakon to his deserved doom. To test their fidelity Olaf summoned a great meeting of the folk and called one of their jarls before him. Few words were spoken before Olaf, to the surprise of all present, declared that the jarl must let himself be christened or that there and then he should die.

"If you and your people refuse to be baptized," Olaf said, "then I will fare through the isles with fire and sword, and I will lay waste the whole land!"

Thorir Klakka laughed to himself at hearing this bold threat, and he thought how ill it would go with any man who should attempt such a thing in Norway.

But there was something in Olaf Triggvison's nature which compelled obedience. The Orkney jarl saw well that the threat was made in serious earnest, and he chose to be christened.

Now this meeting of the islanders was held on the margin of one of the lakes, where stood the heathen temple which Olaf himself had helped to build. And now he had his men pull down this temple to the ground, so that not a stone of it remained standing in its place. Having thus made a semblance of banishing the old faith in Odin and Thor, he set about teaching the greater faith in Christ. He had in his company a certain priest named Thangbrand, a mighty man who could wield the sword as well as any viking, and whose voice was as the sound of thunder. Thangbrand stood up to his knees in the lake, and as the people came out to him, one by one, he sprinkled them with water and made upon them the sign of the cross. Thus were all the islanders, men, women, and children, made Christians. So when these ceremonies were over, Olaf weighed anchor and sailed out eastward for Norway.

Ill content was Thorir Klakka at seeing with what ease Olaf Triggvison had gained influence over these people, and how ready all men were to follow and obey him. If his power were so strong over men who owed him no allegiance, and who did not even know of his royal birth, how much greater must it be over the people of Norway, whose adherence to the family of Harald Fairhair would give them a double reason for obeying him? If Olaf should ever set foot in Norway and proclaim his real name then it might go far more ill with Hakon of Lade than the earl had supposed, when he sent his friend Thorir across to Ireland. As the ships sailed eastward across the sea Thorir thought this matter over, and it came into his mind that it would be better for Hakon's safety that Olaf Triggvison should never be allowed to reach his intended destination.

On a certain night Olaf stood alone at the forward rail of his ship, looking dreamily out upon the sea. The oars were inboard, and there were but few men about the decks, for a good wind that was blowing from the southwest filled the silken sails and sent the vessel onward with a rush of snowy foam along her deep sides, and there was no work to be done save by the man who stood at the tiller. To the south the sea and sky were dark, but in the northern heavens there was an arch of crimson, flickering light, from which long trembling shafts of a fainter red shot forth into the zenith, casting their ruddy reflections upon the waves. The gaunt, gilded dragon at the prow stood as though bathed in fire, and the burnished gold of Olaf's crested helmet, the rings on his bare arms, the hilt of his sword, and the knitted chains of his coat of mail gleamed and glanced in the red light as though they were studded with gems.

This red light, flashing in the midnight sky, was believed by the Norsemen to be the shining of Thor's beard. But as Olaf Triggvison now looked upon it from his ship's bow, he understood it to be a message of hope sent from Heaven, beckoning him onward to his native land in the north, there to avenge his father's death, to reconquer his realm, and to reign as the first truly Christian King of Norway. And yet as his vessel sailed on, plunging through the dashing foam, with her prow rising and falling within the wide span of that great rosy arch, strange doubts came over him, the old beliefs still lingered in his mind, and he began to think that perhaps his new learning was false, that Thor might after all be supreme in the world, and that this red light in the sky was an evidence of his continued power, a visible defiance of Christ.

Olaf was thinking these thoughts when, above the wailing of the wind and the swishing of the waves, he heard, or fancied he heard, someone walking behind him across the deck. He turned quickly. No one could be seen; but his eyes rested upon the shadow cast by the hilt of his sword upon the boards of the deck. The shadow was in the form of the cross. The sign was prophetic, and in an instant all his doubts vanished.

"Christ is triumphant!" he cried.

The words were still on his lips when he heard the creaking of a bowstring. An arrow flashed before him, struck against the peak of his helmet and fell at his feet upon the deck. Then he saw the cloaked figure of a man steal quickly away into the shadow of the sails.

Olaf picked up the arrow and examined it. By a mark upon its shaft and the trimming of its feathers he knew it to be an arrow taken from his own cabin. He also knew that its point was poisoned.

"Never did I suspect that I had a traitor in my following," he said as he went aft towards his cabin. "Some man has attempted to take my life. But whosoever he be, I shall surely find him and punish him!"

He searched among the shadows of the bulwarks and down among the rowers' benches, but saw no trace of his secret enemy. When he entered his cabin he found only Thorir Klakka, lying, as it seemed, asleep upon the floor with an empty drinking horn beside him and breathing heavily. Olaf thought that the man had been taking over much mead, so left him there and went out upon the deck to tell his friend Kolbiorn of this attempt upon his life. But as soon as Olaf was out of the cabin Thorir rose, wakeful enough now that he was alone, and took from under him a longbow which he placed in the rack.

"The man bears a charmed life!" muttered Thorir, "or else he has eyes in the back of his head. Ill luck is mine! Had I but aimed a finger's breadth lower he would now have been dead, and Earl Hakon might have been saved the trouble of laying traps for him!"

Throughout that night Olaf was engaged searching for his unknown enemy; but without avail. He questioned every man on board, but all swore by the sign of the cross that they had seen nothing. For a time Olaf was forced to suspect Thorir Klakka; but he soon dismissed the thought. Thorir's conduct towards him had been from the time of their first meeting so full of goodwill and seeming friendliness that it was impossible to fix suspicion on him, and indeed there was no man among all the ship's company who showed more concern over this matter than did Thorir, or who made greater efforts to discover the miscreant who had dared to attempt the life of the well beloved chief.