bowing before him, and the King welcomed him gladly. They fell then to talking, and Olaf pleaded his case in a long and frank speech, and when he had done he took from his finger the ring that his mother had given him at parting, and held it out toward the King, saying: “This ring, King, you gave to Melkorka as a teething-gift.” The King took the ring and looked at it, and his face grew red, and then he said: “True enough are the tokens, and none the less notable to me is it that you have so many features of your mother’s family, so that by those alone you might easily be recognized, and because of these things I will, in sooth, Olaf, acknowledge your kinship before all these men, and ask you to my Court with all your following; but the honour of you all will depend on what worth as a man I find you to be when I try you further.” Then the King commanded that riding-horses should be given to them, and they left some of the crew to guard the ship, while they rode on together to Dublin. Men thought it great tidings that the King should be journeying to Dublin with the son of his daughter, who had been carried off in war when she was only fifteen winters old. But most startled of all at the news was the foster-mother of Melkorka, who was bed-ridden, both from heavy sickness and because of her great age; yet without even a staff to support her she arose from her bed and walked to meet Olaf. The King said to Olaf: “Here is come Melkorka’s foster-mother, and she will wish to hear all you can tell her about your mother’s life.” Olaf took the old woman in his arms and set her on his knee and told her all the news; he put into her hands the knife and the belt that Melkorka had sent, so that the aged woman recognized the gifts, and wept for joy. “It is easy to see,” she said, “that Melkorka’s son is one of high mettle, and no wonder, seeing what stock he comes of.” And with joy the old dame seemed to grow strong and well, and was in good spirits all the winter. [Illustration: _Olaf took the Old Woman in his Arms_]