fell on us, and, as I think, stirred up the
folk to carry on the business, telling them that we had slain ourselves,
as one might say, for it was the cry that we had slain the jarl's guests."

"O fools, to take up the word of a chance stranger against that of your
own sheriff!" Sigurd cried, facing the people.

"Nay, but the steward said so likewise," cried some.

"Hodulf's steward?" said the jarl suddenly; "where is he?"

"Yonder. Biorn slew him."

"He was leading this crowd," said Biorn from above, "tried to force his
way into the tower past me, and would not be warned."

"What of the outlanders?"

"All slain. Seven Welshmen they were."

Then I said plainly, remembering that the jarl would have known him,
"Their leader was Griffin, who came with Hodulf at the first. What
brought him here, think you, Sigurd the jarl?"

But Sigurd looked round on the people, and scanned them for a long time,
and at last he said, in a hush that fell when he began to speak, "Men
who mind the old days, look at the man whom you have sought to kill, and
say if there is that about him which will tell you why Hodulf's men have
set you on him thus."

Then the white faces turned with one accord to Havelok, as he stood
resting the great cornerstone on the battlement before him, and there
grew a whisper that became a word and that was almost a shout from the
many voices that answered.

"Gunnar! Gunnar Kirkeban come again!"

Then was silence, and the jarl spoke to Havelok.

"Tell us your name, and whence you come."

"Havelok Grimsson of Grimsby men call me," he said.

And then men knew who he was indeed, for little by little the secret had
been pieced together, if not told from the king's place, in the years
that had passed. And at that there rose and grew a murmur and a cry.

"Havelok, son of Gunnar! Havelok the king!"

Then said Sigurd in a great voice, "Who is for Hodulf of us all? Let no
man go hence who is for him."

And I saw two or three men cut down then and there, and after that there
was a roar of voices that called for Havelok to lead them.

"Come down, lord," said Sigurd, unhelming and looking up.

So we went from the tower, and round Havelok the men crowded, kissing
his hand and asking pardon for what they had wrought in error; and
Sigurd dismounted and knelt before him, holding forth his sword hilt in
token of homage, that his king might touch it.

"Only Havelok son of Gunnar dares call himself son of Grim als