"That you cannot do; at least, you may not go back to the land
whence he came. Hall and town may be in the hands of our worst foe,
else I had not been here."
"We cannot be sure of making your haven in any case. We should have
sought such haven as we might, had we been alone."
"And you thought nothing of the treasure, which will be surely
taken from you?"
"We had not thought of it, lady. We have been on board the ship but
three hours or so. What thought might have come to us I cannot say.
But it is not ours, and we could not rob the dead."
He said that quite simply, and as the very truth, which must be to
us as a matter of honour.
"Tell me who you are," she said. "The prince I know already.
Dalfin, I think it was, an Irish name."
Dalfin bowed again, well pleased. Then he took on himself to make
us known in turn, as gravely as if in his father's court.
"This is my host, Malcolm, son of the Norse Jarl of Caithness, who
has unfortunately succeeded his brave father after a gallant fight,
in which I was honoured in taking part. This is Bertric the Thane,
of Lyme, in England, a shipmaster of long standing. He joined us
when we two escaped from Heidrek, who calls himself the Seafarer,
and held us captive after burning out my host and his folk.
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