Then he rose, gave the queen a slap, and flung the book into the fire. But in the same instant, a young taper-bearer, named Ottar Birting, jumped forward, snatched the book from the flames, and stepped fearlessly before the king. "Different it is now, my lord," he said, "from the time, when thou didst sail with pomp and splendor to Norway, and all thy friends hastened with joy to meet thee. * * * Now the days of sorrow have come upon us; for to this glorious feast many of thy friends have come, but they cannot be glad because of thy sad condition. Be now so kind, good my lord, to accept this advice. Rejoice by thy gentleness first the queen, whom thou hast so sorely offended, and then all thy chieftains, thy men-at-arms, thy friends, and thy servants." "How darest thou, ugly, low-born tenant's son, give me counsel?" cried the king, springing up and drawing his sword. All the guests expected, in the next moment, to see Ottar's head roll on the floor. But Ottar stood, gazing calmly into the king's face, and did not stir from the spot. Then Sigurd suddenly stayed his hand and let the sword fall gently upon his shoulder. He rebuked his liegemen, for not having protested against his insane acts, and thanked the youth for his courage. "Go, therefore, Ottar," he finished; "and take thy seat among the liegemen. Thou shalt no more wait upon any one." Ottar Birting became in later years a man of great fame and authority. It may have been due to the unsoundness of his mind that Sigurd, in the last years of his life committed an act, which, however generous it may seem, was scarcely politically defensible. In the year 1129, a young Irishman named Harold Gilchrist arrived in Norway and declared that he was a son of Magnus Barefoot. It was known that King Magnus had had a mistress in Ireland, and during his last battle he is said to have recited a verse about an Irish girl, whom he loved above all others. It is therefore probable that Harold Gilchrist was, or at least believed himself to be, heir to the throne of Norway. He went to King Sigurd, who listened to his story, and allowed him to prove the truth of his statement by submitting to the ordeal by fire. He walked over the red-hot ploughshares and endured the test successfully. It was the priests who had charge of such ordeals, and it was believed that they had the result in their power. Harold Gilchrist, or Gille, as the Norsemen called him, was now acknowledged by the king as his brother, on condition that he should make no claim to the government, as long as Sigurd or his son Magnus was alive. It was, however, no easy task for the king to secure for the long-necked, thin-legged, and lanky Irishman the respect which was due to a member of the royal family. In the first place Harold's appearance was against him, and in the second place, he stammered and could scarcely make himself understood in Norwegian. The king's son, Magnus, hated and ridiculed him, and among the liegemen