There was little sea, and we went swiftly from the open round the eastern point of the island and into the strait.
Now I pointed out the distant sails to Bertric, but he had already seen them.
"I do not rightly make out what they are yet," he said; "but I do not think them Danish.

Honest Norse traders from Dublin, most likely." It was at the time of the slack water at the top of high tide now, and we found Dalfin and Gerda waiting with Phelim and another of the brothers at the flat rock.

At the first sight I thought the prince had changed his mind, and would stay, as if Gerda had over-persuaded him.

For he stood there bare headed, and without mail or shield, though he had the axe and sword which Gerda had given him, and the great torque was on his neck.
"Where is the mail ?" I asked, as we steadied the boat by the rock.
"Waiting my return," he answered.

"Today I am an Irish prince--tomorrow the queen's courtman again, if she will.
"Now farewell, fathers." He bent his knee to the priests, and then bowed over Gerda's hand as he kissed it in parting.
"Forgive me, queen," he said.