d, much as I do, from a wound which he had got in his youth at
Mantes siege. He served the Duke of Burgundy against the Moors in
Spain, and was returning to that war with his dogs. He sang us strange
Moorish songs that first night, and half persuaded us to go with him.
I was on pilgrimage to forget--which is what no pilgrimage brings. I
think I would have gone, but...

'Look you how the life and fortune of man changes! Towards morning a
Dane ship, rowing silently, struck against us in the mist, and while we
rolled hither and yon Hugh, leaning over the rail, fell outboard. I
leaped after him, and we two tumbled aboard the Dane, and were caught
and bound ere we could rise. Our own ship was swallowed up in the
mist. I judge the Knight of the Gold Pieces muzzled his dogs with his
cloak, lest they should give tongue and betray the merchants, for I
heard their baying suddenly stop.

'We lay bound among the benches till morning, when the Danes dragged us
to the high deck by the steering-place, and their captain--Witta, he
was called--turned us over with his foot. Bracelets of gold from elbow
to armpit he wore, and his red hair was long as a woman's, and came
down in plaited locks on his shoulder. He was stout, with bowed legs
and long arms. He spoiled us of all we had, but when he laid hand on
Hugh's sword and saw the runes on the blade hastily he thrust it back.
Yet his covetousness overcame him and he tried again and again, and the
third time the Sword sang loud and angrily, so that the rowers leaned
on their oars to listen. Here they all spoke together, screaming like
gulls, and a Yellow Man, such as I have never seen, came to the high
deck and cut our bonds. He was yellow--not from sickness, but by
nature--yellow as honey, and his eyes stood endwise in his head.'

'How do you mean?' said Una, her chin on her hand.

'Thus,' said Sir Richard. He put a finger to the corner of each eye,
and pushed it up till his eyes narrowed to slits.

'Why, you look just like a Chinaman!' cried Dan. 'Was the man a
Chinaman?'

'I know not what that may be. Witta had found him half dead among ice
on the shores of Muscovy. We thought he was a devil. He crawled
before us and brought food in a silver dish which these sea-wolves had
robbed from some rich abbey, and Witta with his own hands gave us wine.
He spoke a little in French, a little in South Saxon, and much in the
Northman's tongue. We asked him to set us ashore, prom