For an instant Estein hesitated. The thought passed through his
mind, "She must not know me as son to the King of Sogn till I have
done some deed more worthy of a prince of Yngve's line than lose a
battle with two Orkney Vikings." Then he said, "I am called
Vandrad; [Footnote: The Unlucky.] from my youth up I have been a
sea-rover, and I fear I may prove ill suited to your father's
company."

"My father has met sea-rovers before," she said, with a smile in
her eye.

By this time they had nearly crossed the island, and Estein saw
before them another long sound. On the far side of this lay a
large and hilly island that stretched to his left hand as far as
his eye could reach, and on the right broke down at the end of the
strait into a precipitous headland, beyond which sparkled the open
sea. In the middle of the sound a small green islet basked like a
sea monster in the evening sunshine.

As they stood on the top of the descent that ran steeply to the
sea, he cast his eyes around for any signs of life on sea or on
shore. Below him, and much to the left, a cluster of small houses
round a larger drinking-hall marked the residence of a chieftain
of position; on the island across the water lay a few scattered
farms; and on the little islet his eye could just discern a faint
wreath of smoke. The seas were deserted, and the atmosphere seemed
charged with an air of calm loneliness.

"That is my home," said Osla, pointing to the little green island.
"The early fathers called it the Holy Isle. Our house is an