After a vain search Olaf called them together, and mounting a big stone, close to the pigsty, declared in a loud voice that he would give a great reward to him who would find the earl and slay him.
In his damp and malodorous hiding-place the earl sat, gazing anxiously at his thrall. Every word of Olaf's speech he could plainly hear, and by the light of the candle which stood on the earth between them, he saw that Kark, too, was eagerly listening.
"Why art thou now so pale?" asked the earl, "and now again as black as earth. Is it not because thou wilt betray me?"
"No," replied Kark.
"We were both born in the same night," said the earl, after a pause; "and our deaths will not be far apart."
They sat for a long time in shuddering silence, each distrusting the other. From the stillness above they concluded that night was approaching; but neither dared to sleep. At last Kark's weariness overpowered him; but he tossed and mumbled excitedly in his sleep. The earl waked him and asked him what he had been dreaming.
"I dreamed," answered Kark, "that we were both on board the same ship and that I stood at the helm."
"That must mean that thou rulest over thine own life as well as mine. Be therefore faithful to me, Kark, as behooves thee, and I will reward thee when better days come."
Once more the thrall fell asleep and labored heavily, as in a nightmare. The earl woke him again and asked him to relate his dream.
"I thought I was at Hlade," said Kark, "and Olaf Tryggvesson put a golden ring about my neck."