There was a little hush as we came out of the shadow of the great doorway, and everyone turned, of course, to see us. Gerda was between Bertric and myself, and for the moment behind Gorm the Steward, who ushered us in with all ceremony. She had her dark cloak over her mail, and the hood of it hid her bright helm, and we two were cloaked also. Behind us was Phelim, and then the men followed. I waited until they were all inside the hall, and then Gorm stepped aside, and Gerda stood forward. "Ha!" said Arnkel, smiling broadly, "a lady. Welcome to our hall, friends. It may be more to your liking than the sea, so late in the year." Gerda shook her long cloak from her, and stood before him at the length of the hall, plain to be known, even as he had last set eyes on her. "Am I welcome, Arnkel?" she said in a cold voice, which had no sign of a quiver in it. "I have come from the sea to which you sent me." Arnkel's red face went white and ghastly of a sudden, and he sprang back from the table as if he had been smitten. The guests with him stared at us and at him, speechless, for they were Eric's men and knew nothing of Arnkel's ways. But the courtmen rose to their feet with a wild medley of voices, for this thing seemed to them beyond belief for the moment. Round us, amid the lesser folk, was a silence, save for the rustle as they shifted and craned to look at their young mistress. But there was a whisper growing among them. Now Arnkel came back to the table and set his hands on it, for they shook, and stared at Gerda without finding a word in answer. The courtmen were looking at him now, and her name was passing among them in undertones. It was in Arnkel's power to make the best of the return if he would. "Friends," said Gerda, "yonder man sent me to what he deemed my death in the ship which bore Thorwald to sea. Will you welcome me back, if he will not?" Then there was a great shout from the men who loved her, and I thought that all was well. But suddenly that shout stilled, for Arnkel's voice came loud over it all. "Hold, you fools," he cried. "Look at yon armed men. This is a trick of theirs. They have your lady captive, and now will win the place if you suffer them. "Here, you great warrior, who are you?" He pointed to me, and the colour was coming back to his face, while his eyes were fierce. He would make one bid for his power yet. "I am Malcolm of Caithness, the jarl," I answered. "I am the champion of Queen Gerda, whom I and my comrade here saved from the ship in which you would have burned her. "Listen, Thorwald's men. We took her, well nigh dead, from the chamber where your king was laid. See, what are these arms I wear? They will prove it, for they came thence, and are her gift." "Aye," he sneered in a harsh voice, "you took them at the same time you took the girl. "To your arms, men, and see that these robbers do not escape."