ne on the deck of our little trading
vessel, that went by the name of the heathen goddess, Diana. We were
in the port of Alexandria. Martina, who now went by the name of Hilda,
stood by my side describing to me the great city that lay before us.

She told me of the famous Pharos still rising from its rock, although in
it the warning light no longer burned, for since the Moslems took Egypt
they had let it die, as some said because they feared lest it should
guide a Christian fleet to attack them. She described also the splendid
palaces that the Greeks had built, many of them now empty or burned
out, the Christian churches, the mosques, the broad streets and the
grass-grown quays.

As we were thus engaged, she talking and I listening and asking
questions, she said,

"The boat is coming with the Saracen officers of the port, who must
inspect and pass the ship before she is allowed to discharge her cargo.
Now, Olaf, remember that henceforth you are called Hodur." (I had taken
this name after that of the blind god of the northern peoples.) "Play
your part well, and, above all, be humble. If you are reviled, or even
struck, show no anger, and be sure to keep that red sword of yours close
hidden beneath your robe. If you do these things we shall be safe, for I
tell you that we are well disguised."

The boat came alongside and I heard men climbing the ship's ladder. Then
someone kicked me. It was our captain, Menas, who also had his part to
play.

"Out of the road, you blind beggar," he said. "The noble officers of the
Caliph board our ship, and you block their path."

"Touch not one whom God has afflicted," said a grave voice, speaking
in bad Greek. "It is easy for us to walk round the man. But who is he,
captain, and why does he come to Egypt? By their looks he and the woman
with him might well have seen happier days."

"I know not, lord," answered the captain, "who, after they paid their
passage money, took no more note of them. Still they play and sing well,
and served to keep the sailors in good humour when we were becalmed."

"Sir," I broke in, "I am a Northman named Hodur, and this woman is my
niece. I was a trader in amber, but thieves robbed me and my companions
of all we had as we journeyed to Byzantium. Me, who was the leader of
our band, they held to ransom, blinding me lest I should be able to
swear to them again, but the others they killed. This is the only child
of my sister, who married a Greek, and now