“She comes nigh!” gasped Eric. “See how swift she comes! By the dead, it is Swanhild’s shape! Look, Skallagrim! look how her eyes flame!—look how her hair streams upon the wind!”
“It is Swanhild, and we are fey!” quoth Skallagrim, and they ran back to the helm, where Skallagrim sank upon the deck in fear.
“See, Skallagrim, she glides before the Gudruda’s beak! she glides backwards and she points yonder—there to the right! Shall I put the helm down and follow her?”
“Nay, lord, nay; set no faith in witchcraft or evil will befall us.”
As he spoke a great gust of wind shook the ship, the music of the breakers roared in their ears, and the gleaming shape upon the waters tossed its arms wildly and pointed to the right.
“The breakers call ahead,” said Eric. “The shape points yonder, where I hear no sound of sea. Once before, thou mindest, Swanhild walked the waves to warn us and thereby saved us from the men of Ospakar. Ever she swore she loved me; now she is surely come in love to save us and all our comrades. Say, shall I put about? Look: once more she waves her arms and points,” and as he spoke he gripped the helm.
“I have no rede, lord,” said Skallagrim, “and I love not witch-work. We can die but once, and death is all around; be it as thou wilt.”
Eric put down the helm with all his might. The good ship answered, and her timbers groaned loudly, as though in woe, when the strain of the sea struck her abeam. Then once more she flew fast across the waters, and fast before her glided the wraith of Swanhild. Now it pointed here and now there, and as it pointed so Eric shaped his course. For a while the noise of breakers lessened, but now again came a thunder, like the thunder of waves smiting on a cliff, and about the sides of the Gudruda the waves hissed like snakes.
Suddenly the Shape threw up its arms and seemed to sink beneath the waves, while a sound like the sound of a great laugh went up from sea to sky.
“Now here is the end,” said Skallagrim, “and we are lured to doom.”