'How do you mean?' said Una, her chin on her hand. 'Thus,' said Sir Richard. He put a finger to the corner of each eye, and pushed it up till his eyes narrowed to slits. 'Why, you look just like a Chinaman!' cried Dan. 'Was the man a Chinaman?' 'I know not what that may be. Witta had found him half dead among ice on the shores of Muscovy. We thought he was a devil. He crawled before us and brought food in a silver dish which these sea-wolves had robbed from some rich abbey, and Witta with his own hands gave us wine. He spoke a little in French, a little in South Saxon, and much in the Northman's tongue. We asked him to set us ashore, promising to pay him better ransom than he would get price if he sold us to the Moors--as once befell a knight of my acquaintance sailing from Flushing. "'Not by my father Guthrum's head," said he. "The Gods sent ye into my ship for a luck-offering." 'At this I quaked, for I knew it was still the Danes' custom to sacrifice captives to their Gods for fair weather. "'A plague on thy four long bones!" said Hugh. "What profit canst thou make of poor old pilgrims that can neither work nor fight?" "'Gods forbid I should fight against thee, poor Pilgrim with the Singing Sword," said he. "Come with us and be poor no more. Thy teeth are far apart, which is a sure sign thou wilt travel and grow rich." "'What if we will not come?" said Hugh. "'Swim to England or France," said Witta. "We are midway between the two. Unless ye choose to drown yourselves no hair of your head will be harmed here aboard. We think ye bring us luck, and I myself know the runes on that Sword are good." He turned and bade them hoist sail. 'Hereafter all made way for us as we walked about the ship, and the ship was full of wonders.' 'What was she like?' said Dan. 'Long, low, and narrow, bearing one mast with a red sail, and rowed by fifteen oars a side,' the knight answered. 'At her bows was a deck under which men might lie, and at her stern another shut off by a painted door from the rowers' benches. Here Hugh and I slept, with Witta and the Yellow Man, upon tapestries as soft as wool. I remember'--he laughed to himself--'when first we entered there a loud voice cried, "Out swords! Out swords! Kill, kill!" Seeing us start Witta laughed, and showed us it was but a great-beaked grey bird with a red tail. He sat her on his shoulder, and she called for bread and wine hoarsely, and prayed him to kiss her. Yet she was no more than a silly bird. But--ye knew this?' He looked at their smiling faces. 'We weren't laughing at you,' said Una. 'That must have been a parrot. It's just what Pollies do.'