"How many?" he asked.
"Like to herrings in a barrel.--More than I can tell," the masthead man answered.
Then Thorgils turned to us.
"This is more than I can fully fathom," he said, leaning on the helm a little, so that the ship edged up a trifle closer to the wind steadily. "She has her weather gunwale packed with men, who are hiding under it--armed men. On my word, it is well that Eric is with us."
Owen and I looked at one another. If I had been alone, or with him only, I think I should have rejoiced in this seeming chance of a fight at sea, but with Nona and her maidens on board there was a sort of terror for me in what all this might mean.
No honest vessel hid her men thus, and waited for the coming of two strangers.
"Get your arms on, prince and comrade," said Thorgils. "It is in my mind that these are desperate folk of sorts. We are pranked up with that dragon like any longship, and here is Eric astern of us, and yet there is some look of fighting in the hiding of these men. Will they face two of us, or what is it?"
"We may not fight with the lady on board, Thorgils," Owen said under his breath. "If so be we can get away from them we must. Yet it will be the first time that Oswald and I have thought of flying."
"There is no merit in staying for a fight if there is need why one should be out of it," Thorgils said. "See, she is going to try to get to windward of us, and now will be a bit of a sailing match."
Then he called one of the men, and he came aft and took a pole with a round red board on its top from where it hung along the gunwale, and, standing on the stern rail with his arm round the high stern post, waved it slowly. He was signalling to Eric as Thorgils bade him.