"You wish to see me?"
The girl seemed to start a little, and then she said in a low voice,—
"Are you King Estein?"
The words were almost lost in the hood that shrouded her head. They died away to a low whisper; but ere they were gone Estein had caught the slight flavour of a foreign accent, and for an instant he was on the Holy Isle again. With a sharp effort he controlled the sudden rush of emotion they called up, and even altered his voice to a low, guarded pitch as he answered,—
"I am the king." The girl paused for a moment as if to collect her thoughts, and then she said,—
"You had a brother, King Estein—Olaf Hakonson—"
She stopped again, and seemed to look hesitatingly at him.
"What of him?" said Estein.
"He fell, alas, long since. Forgive me for calling him to mind now, but he is in my story."
"Well?"