s I did so a great shout
told me that the French fleet had been sighted.

"Hubert," she said, "take this key and go to the oak chest in my
sleeping room, lift out the linen at the top and bring me that which
lies wrapped in cloth beneath."

I did so, returning with a bundle that was long and thin. With a knife
she cut the string that tied it. Within were a bag of money and a sword
in an ancient scabbard covered with a rough skin which I took to be that
of a shark, which scabbard in parts was inlaid with gold.

"Draw it," said my mother.

I did so, and there came to light a two-edged blade of blue steel,
such as I had never seen before, for on the blade were engraved strange
characters whereof I could make nothing, although as it chanced I could
read and write, having been taught by the monks in my childhood. The
hilt, also, that was in the form of a cross, had gold inlaid upon it;
at the top of it, a large knob or apple of amber, much worn by handling.
For the rest it was a beauteous weapon and well balanced.

"What of this sword?" I asked.

"This, Son. With the black bow that you have," and she pointed to the
case that leaned against the table, "it has come down in my family
for many generations. My father told me that it was the sword of one
Thorgrimmer, his ancestor, a Norseman, a Viking he called him, who came
with those who took England before the Norman time; which I can well
believe since my father's name, like mine, till I married, was Grimmer.
This sword, also, has a name and it is Wave-Flame. With it, the tale
tells, Thorgrimmer did great deeds, slaying many after their heathen
fashion in his battles by land and sea. For he was a wanderer, and it is
said of him that once he sailed to a new land far across the ocean, and
won home again after many strange adventures, to die at last here in
England in some fray. That is all I know, save that a learned man from
the north once told my father's father that the writing on the sword
means:--

"He who lifts Wave-Flame on high
In love shall live and in battle die;
Storm-tossed o'er wide seas shall roam
And in strange lands shall make his home.
Conquering, conquered shall he be,
And far away shall sleep with me.

"Those were the words which I remember because of the jingle of them;
also because such seems to have been the fate of Thorgrimmer and the
sword that his grandson took from his tomb."

Here I would have asked about this