my mind to ask of you a boon which I
should be thankful if you would grant. As far off as Normandy, my friend
has heard tidings of this exploring-journey of yours; and he has come
all this way in the hope of being allowed to join your following. He has
the matter much at heart. If my wishes are at all powerful with you, you
will not deny him."

A murmur of delight ran through the crowd. That this splendid personage
should have come to do homage to their hero, was the final dramatic
touch which their imaginations craved. It was with difficulty that they
repressed a cheer.

But the guardsman looked puzzled to the point of incredulity.

"Heard the tidings as far as Normandy?" he repeated. "A matter of so
little importance to anyone? How is that likely?" Straightening in his
saddle, he looked at the Norman for a moment with eyes that were more
keen than courteous.

"He would be liable to disaster who should try to put a trick upon Leif
Ericsson," the thrall-born whispered.

Robert Sans-Peur was in no wise disconcerted. Meeting the keen eyes, he
answered in plain if halting Norse: "The renowned chief has forgotten
that early this season a trading-ship went from here to Trondhjem. Not a
few of her shipmates went further than Nidaros. One of them, who was
called Gudbrand-wi'-the-Scar, travelled even so far as Rouen, where it
was my good fortune to encounter him."

"It is true that I had forgotten that," the chief said, slowly. He
lowered his gaze to his horse's ears and sat for a while lost in
thought. Then once more he extended his hand to the Southerner.

"It appears to me that you are a man of energy and resource," he said,
with a return of his former cordiality. "Since wind and wave have not
hindered you from your desire, it would be unheard-of churlishness for
me to refuse you. Get now into my saddle and allow your friend to
conduct you to the hall. It is necessary that I oversee the storing of
these wares, but after the night-meal we will speak further of the
matter." To forestall any further attempts at hand-kissing, he sprang
from his horse and strode over to the trader.

With an air of grave ceremony that was swallowed open-mouthed by the
onlookers, Sigurd held his friend's stirrup; then, quickly remounting
his own steed, the pair rode off.

This time the mob would not be restrained, but burst into a roar of
delight.

"Here at last is a great happening that we have seen with our own eyes!"
they told each