Swiftly sped Sweyn towards the Earl's tent, the great battle-axe of a viking in his hand, and I beside him. Even fleeter was I, for I forged ahead, and had torn aside the hangings even as he came up with me. Earl Beorn stood within, flushed and lowering: at his feet knelt Algive, her hood wrested away, and the fingers of his right hand clasped in the short golden curls of her hair. Beside him, as though thrust from his way, was a light trestle-board, yet strewn with bread, broken meats, and drinking-horns: upon this board he leant unsteadily with his other hand. Said he thickly, swaying a little: "By the hammer of Thor, who dare----" Then Sweyn glided within, and called full softly and sweetly: "Ho, Beorn Estrithson! Here is Sweyn Godwinson!" "Is it so?" said Beorn. "Is it so indeed? Sweyn the Outlaw! Sweyn the Nithing!" His voice rose in a drunken laugh. "Godwin's son! Sweyn the son of King Canute, and of Gytha the spotless princess." It was the last hiss of that wicked worm. The Danish war-axe of Sweyn whistled once through the air, and smote Earl Beorn right between the brows, and he fell heavily along the deck, and by his blood was Algive all foully bespattered as she lay. And Sweyn sang loud and hoarse and high; hoarse and high and loud sang he: "Utters the axe: of Sweyn the sea-rover; Lifeless he lies: the wiler of women! Blood of betrayer: is it not a sight full seemly? Haro! Haro! Aié! Haro! Lo! cries his lord: Weapon unworthy, Lop I thy head leifer, than 'gainst brave and true men bear thee! Hempen death rather his, that was sib-folk's slanderer. 'Cowards come not: To the halls of the Chosen! Haro! Haro!..." But of all that followed I nothing saw nor heard, for a great blow was stricken me behind the head, and black darkness rushed down upon mine eyes and ears. The blood beat dully against my brow, and my head ached as it would split in twain. I lay on a day-bed, pillowed with down. On the ship? There had been a ship.... The fourth man! He must have fallen upon me as I stood in the tent-door. Nay, I was once again within four walls. There were voices of men and women about me. I opened mine eyes. Near-by saw I some that I kenned full well, though they kenned not me, for often had I gazed upon the great ones of the land, since coming into Kent. On a settle over against me sat proud Lady Gytha, Earl Godwin's wife: her grief had made her stony; her eyes were heavy, and her lips a thin, tight streak. Earl Tostig stood before the empty hearth, clanking ever at the golden chain about his neck. At the feet of his mother, upon a stool, sat Harold, holding on his knee the child Haco Sweynson. "Stirs she yet?" said Lady Gytha. "Nay, not yet," Tostig answered. I shut mine eyes, for his harsh tones jarred and sickened me. "Was it Algive?" she said, right mournfully. "Has this woman once again brought my Sweyn to nought?"