at penthouse might hold flashed on me. Many
a time I had heard how in long ago days men would set the body of
their dead chief afloat in his favourite ship, with all his
treasure and war gear, and all else that a chief might need in
Asgard; and so light his balefire on board, and let him pass to a
sea grave beyond the ken of men in strange magnificence. For we of
the old faith hold that what a man buries in life, or takes with
him to the grave in death, is his to enjoy in the hall of Odin when
he comes thither. It was the ancient way, and a wonderful one--the
way of the Asir with the dead Baldur.

Yet I had ever been told that the custom was long past, and that
such a sea and fire burial was unheard of now. It was only the
finding of the half-dead fire which minded me of it; for that which
we had thought of a family flitting across the seas to Iceland--the
sail, wet with the thunder rain of yesterday, spread to dry, and
then the coming over the hills of the cast wind suddenly, setting
the carelessly-moored ship adrift from some westward-looking haven,
where lay no other craft which could follow her, had been quite
enough to account for the wandering vessel.

Now I knew that only one thing would account for the purposeful
firing of the ship. Yonder lay some mighty chief--and as I thought
of that I clutched Bertric's arm and pointed.

"Not the pestilence, comrade," I said; "but what lies in yonder
penthouse."

"What should be there?" he asked, wondering, for my voice was
unsteady.

"We have boarded the funeral ship of some chief," I said. "He lies
shut in that chamber with his treasures round him."

"To be burned in his ship at sea," said Bertric quietly. "Well, a
Viking might find a less fitting funeral. Truly, it seems as if you
may be right, and we must needs see if so it is."

Now Dalfin had listened, crossing himself once or twice, and he
nodded.

"I like it not at all," he said; "but we must see what is yonder,
and if Malcolm is right."

It was strange to me that these two showed no fear of him who
doubtless lay there, in the chamber which his men had made for him.
We hold that the one who dares open the grave chamber is the
hardiest of men, running most fearsome risk from the wrath of the
dead hero. For, if aught will bring back the life to a warrior who
has died, it will be that one should set hands on his war gear. And
we hold that the ghost of a man hides near his body for many days,
and therefore