they shrank back.

"What, again?" said Heidrek. "I thought we had settled that
question. What would you with them?"

"That is to be seen. Let me have them."

"Pay for them, then," shouted one of the men. "They are over and
above your share of plunder."

"Aye," said Asbiorn at once, "I claim them for my share. Have them
down to the new ship, and set them in the forepeak till I need
them."

Then old Heidrek laughed harshly.

"Faith, I thought the lad a fool," he said. "Now I know that he
will not be so short-handed as I thought. Some of you who are his
crew will have an easier time at the oar with these slaves to pull
for you."

The men laughed at that, and I knew that the danger was past. I
minded what our man had said at first, how that one might escape
from slavery. And I think that the nearness of death--though, in
truth, not one of us would have shrunk from the steel that was so
ready--had taught me how good a thing life might be even yet.

Most of the men went away, the matter being settled. Heidrek went
also, without another word to his son, and we were left to Asbiorn
and a few men of his own crew. The young chief smiled a little as
he looked again at us, but even Dalfin could not smile back again.

"Now," said Asbiorn, "cast off the lashings from their feet, and
let them walk to the ship. See that they all get there, and set a
watch over the place where they are stowed."

"Are we sailing at once?" a man asked.

"Yes, as usual. The chief has some new plan on foot already."

The end of it was that in a short time we were on board our own
ship, and safely stowed forward, still bound. Heidrek had added her
to his force, and manned her from the other two vessels; but before
we reached the ship I saw that Heidrek's men had piled their slain
into an outhouse, set the fagot stack round it, and fired it to
windward. There was no more honour for their fallen comrades than
that.

So I saw the last of my home in Caithness, and before me was the
life of a slave. They had stripped us of our mail and weapons, of
course, and had handled us roughly, but that might be borne. The
low door of the cramped sail room under the fore deck closed, and
we were in darkness, and then Dalfin set into words the thought of
us all, with a sort of dull groan:

"This morning I woke and thought it good to be alive!"

Almost at once the ship was warped out of the haven, and went to
sea. The last hope I had that the Scots might