"Well," said Sigurd, "you say what I believe, but it looks very black against you." Then he told him what the rumours were, how he had been seen go down the street, then come up the street, how he had shown himself in the yard, said nothing, but beckoned Halward out; how he had not been seen again, and how Halward had been found stiff in his own blood in the street.
Gunnar heard all this in silence, and remained silent so long that Sigurd had to make him speak. "Well, what are we to answer them?" he said.
Gunnar lifted his head and looked at him. "I can only tell you," he said, "that I am innocent of this deed."
"Do you know nothing at all of it?" he was asked.
"Ah," said Gunnar, "that is where you touch me. Now I must tell you fairly that I can say nothing more to you or anybody at this hour."
Then Sigurd said, "You had better be off. The king will certainly hang you for it."
Gunnar thought. "Yes," he said, "I must go. All may be set straight some day; but not by me." Then Sigurd left him, and Gunnar made his preparations.
He took very little with him, for he knew that he must go far, and most of it afoot. The king's hand stretched to the confines of Norway, and even in Iceland his power was being felt. Gunnar thought that he must travel East—on horseback so far as he could get, but after that, he must cross the mountains and get down into Sweden. He took a sword and a sack of provision, and those were all that he took. No, there was one thing more. He could not bring himself to relinquish the fine cloak he had had from Ogmund Dint. Besides, if it were found when men came to look for him it might be witness against the man who had done the deed. It was against Gunnar's religion to betray a man's secret. He rolled up the cloak therefore and stuffed it into the saddle-bag.
Then he got out his sorrel mare and rode off in the dusk. He went East by a dale which he judged would bring him soonest out of King Olaf's holding; and he rode all night and till noon the next day.