“I will take it as enough,” he said hastily. “I mind some old saying of the kind. Ay, that is it—a hidden king and a voyage across the sea. It is enough.”
“Not enough,” said a chief in the hall close to the high seat. “Let this warrior say what he means plainly.”
There were many who agreed to this, and I did not wait for Hodulf any longer. I told them who I was, and then showed them why that token was to be held enough for any man; and as I spoke, there were black looks toward the high seat among the older men. As for Hodulf, he sat with a forced smile, and seemed to listen indulgently, as to a well-made tale.
And after that the matter was out of my hands, for the same chief who had asked for the tale came and stood by my side, and he faced Hodulf and spoke.
“For twelve years have I served you as king, and now I know that I have wasted the faith I gave you. What became of the sisters of Havelok? Answer me that, Hodulf, or I will go and ask their brother concerning whom you have lied to me.”
“Go and ask him,” answered Hodulf, biting his lips; “go and hear more lies. Who can know the son of Gunnar when he sees him?”
“That is answered out of your own mouth,” said the chief. “Is Sigurd a fool that he should hail the first man who asks him to do so?”
And from beside me Withelm answered also, “Maybe it is a pity that Griffin of Wales was slain last night in trying to kill Havelok. He knew him, and I have heard that he came here to warn Hodulf that his time was come.”
Hodulf’s face grew whiter when he heard that; but it was what he needed, as some sort of excuse to let loose his passion.
White and shaking with wrath and fear, he rose up and he cried, “Murdered is Griffin! Ho, warriors, let not these go forth!”