feast would take you from the ship just as the
tide is on the turn."

"Maybe not, lord king," answered the man, lifting his hand in
salute. "But the dragons will be wakeful enough--never fear for
them."

So the king answered back cheerily, and other men came and
listened, and so at last he turned away, leaving the men who loved
him pleased and the happier for his coming thus.

Now I thought that we should have gone back to the hall; but Olaf
walked away from the town, going along the shore. The tide was just
out, and the flow would soon begin. Soon we lost sight of the last
lights from the houses, and still he went on, and I followed him,
not speaking, for I knew not what plans he was making.

At last we came to a place to which I had not been before, and it
was lonely enough. The forest came down to the beach, and the land
was low and sheltered between the hills. There the king stayed,
sitting down on a fallen tree and resting his chin on his hand, as
he looked out over the water with grave eyes that seemed to see far
beyond the tossing waves.

I rested beside him, and there we bided silent for an hour or more.
There was only the sound of the wind in the storm-twisted trees
behind us, and of the waves as they broke along the edge of the
bare sands, where a few waking sea birds ran and piped unseen by
us. Almost had I slept with those well-known sounds in my ears.

Then suddenly the king lifted his head, and spoke one word to me:

"Listen," he said.

I roused, but all that I could hear at first were the sounds that I
had forgotten--the song of the wind in the trees, the rush of the
breakers, and the cry of the sea birds across the sands.

Then my heart began to beat wildly, for out of these sounds, or
among them, began to come clearly, and yet more clearly the sound
of the tread of many armed feet--the passing of a mighty host--and
with that the thunder of the war song, and the cry of those who
bade farewell. And these sounds passed over us and around us, going
seawards; then they died away out towards the north, and were gone.

Yet still the king listened, and again came the tramp of the armed
thousands, and the war song, and the voices of parting, and they
passed, and came, and passed yet once more.

Then after the third time there was nought but the sound of wind
and wave and sea fowl, and I drew closer to Olaf and asked him:

"What is this that we hear?"

"Wait," he said, and pointed seaward.

Th