"He is Malcolm, the jarl's best-loved son," said that man of ours who had asked my pardon. "Maybe his mother's folk will ransom him. His grandfather is Melbrigda, the Scots jarl over yonder." He pointed across the hills where the smoke hung among the heather, and at that old Heidrek laughed, while the men at his heels chuckled evilly. For some reason of their own, which, maybe, was not far to seek, they were certain that Melbrigda could find ransom for no one at this time, if he would. Asbiorn turned to our guest, seeing, no doubt, that he was not of the house carles. The great gold torque on his neck seemed to shine all the more brightly by reason of the blackened mail and cloak that half hid it. "My name?" said Dalfin, with a flash of pride in his gray eyes. "It is Dalfin, prince of Maghera, in Ireland, of the line of the Ulster kings. Kill me, and boast that once you slew a prince. No need to say that I was bound when you did it." He spoke the Danish of Waterford and Dublin well enough. Asbiorn flushed, with some sort of manly shame, as I believe, and even old Heidrek frowned uneasily. To have the deed they threatened set in all its shame before them was a new thing to them. "Let the prince go, chief," I said, seeing this look. "He is a guest, and if this is some old feud with my father of which I have not heard, he does not come into it. He is a guest of the house." "Faith," answered Heidrek savagely, "he has made it his own affair. He has been the bane of three of my best men. Aye, I have a feud here, and with all who dwell at ease. I am Heidrek the Seafarer." He turned away, and left us with some sign to his men; but Asbiorn stood still and spoke again to us. "You bear a Scottish name," he said. "Have you no Scottish kin besides Melbrigda?" I shook my head, whereon Dalfin spoke for me. "Here," he said, "if it is just a matter of ransom, let us both go; and come to Belfast in a year's time, or six months' time, an you will. Then my father will pay chief's ransom for the two of us. My word as a prince on it." "It is a new thing with us to take ransom, or the word of any man," answered Asbiorn doubtfully, yet as if the plan seemed good to him. One of the men who followed him broke in on that, "No use, Asbiorn. We cannot put into any Irish port in safety. And over there princes are thick as blackberries, and as poor as the brambles that bear them." "Aye, and as prickly," said Dalfin. "Have you learned that also?" The men laughed. One of them said that the Irishman's Danish speech was not bad, and that it was a pity-- "So it is," Asbiorn put in hastily. "I will speak to my father." The old chief was back with his crew, settling the sharing of the plunder. His son took him aside, and their talk was long; and, as it seemed, not altogether peaceful. Soon the men began to gather round them, and those with us went to hear what was going on. So we were left alone for a moment.