"Back to the landing!" cried Sigurd, a terrible fear in his heart. "Hasten!"
As they drew ashore he leaped out, and held the piece of wood up to the light of a torch.
CHAPTER X.
FAREWELL TO DUBLIN.
Biorn and the vikings crowded around, as he deciphered the scratches, for they were unable to read Runic, which was more like shorthand than anything else. A cry of dismay burst from Sigurd.
"Listen, men! 'Ketil bears me to England! Rescue, Sigurd!' Come, men, to the palace!"
"To the palace! To the palace!" They echoed his words, and the terrible Jomsborg battle-yell startled the sleeping town, and pealed up to the castle.
"Bring Thorir Klakke, but harm him not," commanded Sigurd, "while I arouse the king."
Olaf, however, was already up, wakened by the tumult. Sword in hand, he entered the great hall just as Sigurd burst in at the other end.
"What means this uproar?" roared Olaf, his eyes blazing with anger.