superstitious, and had often consulted the oracles of the country, “were born on the same day, and the same day will close the life of both!” Towards nightfall Olaf departed, and the master and slave were left to their own reflections, or what was still worse, to their conversation. Hako durst not sleep, lest his slave should assassinate him; nor Kark, lest the same advantage should be taken by his master. At length, however, the slave closed his eyes, and dreamed that he and his master were in the same ship, of which he was the helmsman. This required no interpretation; as Hako observed, they were, indeed, in the same vessel, and the fate of both was in the hands of the slave. Again the latter dreamed: he was now at the court of Olaf, who fastened a golden chain around his neck. “That chain,” observed Hako, “will be a bloody one to thee, if ever thou comest into the presence of Olaf; it portends thy doom: yet be faithful to me, and all will be well!” At length nature was too much for both, and they slept; but, towards the break of day, the slave was awoke by the horrid noise made by his master, who seemed as if in a cruel nightmare, as if struggling with some nightly demon, or with his own evil genius. Kark arose, drew a knife from his belt, and cut the throat of Hako. The head he then separated from the body, and hastened with it to Olaf, who was now proclaimed king. “What led thee to this deed?” was the demand of the prince. “Chiefly,” replied the slave, “the great reward which I heard thee offer, and partly the confusion of my senses at the condition of Hako.”—“Thou shalt have the reward,” rejoined the king; “but thou shalt also die. If Hako was a bad man, he was still thy master, and a benefactor to thee; and thy fate must be a warning to thy fellows, not to lift their hands against those whom they ought to defend.” The slave was then beheaded; and the prophecy, that he and Hako should die within a day of each other, was literally fulfilled.[216] Thus perished the son of Sigurd,—a man of great talents, great enterprise, and, until the last few years of his life, of great public utility. Previous to that period, his enemies could not deny him noble birth, great valour, consummate prudence in the art of government, and success in war. He was, besides, liberal to his dependents, and magnificent to his friends. His chief defects were dissimulation, treachery, falsehood; a superstitious regard for the pagan religion, and a hatred of Christianity. Formerly, he had been called Hako the Good; he was henceforth to be called Hako the Bad. He died in his fifty-eighth year, thirty-three of which he had exercised the sovereign power under the title of jarl.[217] [Sidenote: 996.]