"Give me somewhat to do, and maybe I shall forget the hunger,"

Dalfin answered ruefully. "Which of you two is to be captain?"

"Bertric," I said at once. "That is his place by all right."

"It is an old trade of mine," the Saxon said quietly "Well, it is to be seen if I can justify my sayings of myself."

The sun had set by the time we boarded the ship, but we had not noticed it in the bright twilight. The short northern night would be no darker than now until the sunrising, for we were close on midsummer, and there was every sign of settled fair weather after the gale. Even now the last breeze was dying away, leaving the sea bright and unruffled under the glow in the northwest sky. It was only to be hoped that presently some summer breeze might suffer us to lay our course southward or eastward, toward the land where we might find haven and help.

Now Bertric set us to work, and we had little or no trouble, for the breeze fell altogether very quickly. The sheet had fouled the great cleat which was bolted to the deck beams amidships aft for the backstay, and that was easily cleared. Then we swung the yard fore and aft, Dalfin hauling as he was bidden, with fixed intent to haul till further orders, which was all we needed from him. Then Bertric would have two reefs taken in, for we could not tell what weather we might meet, or for how long we might have to stay on board without help. The foot of the sail was wet, as with heavy rain.

"We can take no chances," he said. "Yet it is likely that we shall have a ship or two in chase of us shortly. It is a wonder to me that we have seen none yet. But word will go along the coast of what has happened. It is not the first time that a carelessly-moored vessel has got adrift in a calm, and found a breeze for herself, while her sail was hoisted to dry in the sun."

Now, all we had to do was to carry forward the tack and set it up for reaching, and to do that we had to climb over the f.a.gots at the foot of the penthouse, and the gunwale end of the timbers they rested on, the run of the deck being blocked altogether by the pile. Seeing that when the ship was to be put about the square sail had to be lowered, brought aft round the mast and rehoisted on the other board, the unhandiness of the thing was terribly unseamanlike.

Bertric and I grumbled and wondered at it the while we worked, only hoping that by some stroke of luck we might be able to reach a haven without having to shift the sail. It was to the starboard of the mast now, which would serve us well if the wind came from east or north, as was most likely.

Maybe that was an hour's work, and we had done all we might. By that time the breeze had altogether gone, and the ship floated idly on still, bright water, with the hush of the night round us. There was time to tow her head round when we knew whence the morning wind would blow.

Bertric coiled down the fall of the tack purchase, and nodded to Dalfin. "Food now, if there is to be any," he said. "What is in yon kettle?"

Now that we were forward we had seen that against this end of the penthouse no f.a.gots had been piled. The red and white striped awnings of the decks were set there, carefully rolled up round their carved supports, and they rested on a stout sea bedstead, such as might be carried on board for the chief to whom the ship belonged. Two more chests stood at the head and foot of this bedstead, and they were carved, as indeed was the bed. It was plain that all the gear on board belonged to some great house.

But six or eight feet forward of these things, and in the midst of a clear s.p.a.ce of deck, was a shallow square box full of sand, and on that was set the covered kettle of which our comrade spoke. The sandbox was that on which a fire might be lighted at sea if need were, but none had been used on it as yet. Hard by were two casks lashed to ringbolts on deck, one of which was covered, and the other had a spigot in it. They held oatcake in one, and water in the other, as perhaps one might have expected, here where the men of the crew would gather forward. And the kettle was full of boiled meat, which was maybe the most welcome sight to us that we could have looked on. For, if we had managed to forget it, we were famished.

So then and there we made a royal meal, asking not at all what the meat might be, only knowing that it was good, thanks to the unknown hands which had made it ready. There was enough in that great sea cauldron for two more such meals as this, and the oatcake barrel was full. We had no fear of hunger again for a time, and if there was no more to be found by the time this store was ended, we should surely have found haven or help in some way, most likely by the coming of some ship in search with the morning at latest.

Now, as I sat on the deck and ate, once and again came to me that sharp smell of peat smoke, and at last I spoke of it, asking if the others had not smelt it.

"I smell somewhat strange to me," said Bertric. "It is a pleasant smell enough. What is amiss with it?"

"What, do your folk in England use no peat?" said Dalfin in surprise. "Why, we should hardly know how to make a fire without it. It is peat smoke you smell."

"Why, then, there must be fire somewhere!" said Bertric, leaping up.

"Smouldering peat, certainly," I said, rising with him. "Under yon f.a.gots is the only place I can think of as possible--or under the deck planking."

We went to the penthouse, and climbed on the piles of f.a.gots on the port side. When we trimmed sail afresh we had hauled it along the starboard, and had at least smelt nothing of the smoke there. But now we set to work and hove the f.a.gots overboard, setting the handsome sledge from off them forward out of the way. The peat smoke grew stronger as we lowered the pile, and at last a little cloud of blue smoke came up to us.

"No hurry," said I to Bertric, who was anxious, "there is no wind to fan the turfs into flame. It can but smoulder slowly."

"It is here," cried Dalfin, lifting a f.a.got whose under side was scorched and blackened, though more by heat and smoke than flame.

Under that was a bushel or so of peat, the midst of which was but a black hollow, round the sides of which the fire glowed red, only waiting for the wind to fan it into life. The turfs blazed a little in the draught as we cast them overboard quickly. Then we sent all the f.a.gots on that side after them.

"This is no chance," I said. "There may be more yet. We must get all this lumber cleared."

It had been the same on the other side of the pile, but the peat was cold and dead, not having burned so long. Then we moved the wagon from the after end of the penthouse, and cleared that. Here again was peat, and more of it, and it had been lighted, and had only been out for a short time. Some of the turfs may still have had fire within them, but we did not wait to see. And all the while as we worked at this strange task, I wondered what the meaning of it all was.

The last f.a.got went overboard, and Bertric rose up and looked at me. His face was white as with some fear, and he stepped backward away from the penthouse aft.

"Comrades," he said, "why did they want to burn this ship? She is not burnt, only because as she ran in the light breeze there was no wind to set the peat aflame. They meant her to burn when she was in the open sea--when the spark they set in the turf should have had time to grow to flame, and fire the brushwood. Look at those two tar barrels set handy."

"Aye," I said, for all this had been growing on me. "They meant her to run far from sh.o.r.e before her rigging went. That is why the halliards have been brought aft, out of the way of the flame."

"And why the sail was wet," said Dalfin. "And maybe why we are not chased."

"It comes into my mind," said Bertric slowly, "that there has been pestilence on board, and that they would rid themselves of it."

But I hardly noted what he said. There had come to me, of a sudden, the memory of old tales of the ways of my Norse forefathers, and the certainty of what that penthouse might hold flashed on me. Many a time I had heard how in long ago days men would set the body of their dead chief afloat in his favourite ship, with all his treasure and war gear, and all else that a chief might need in Asgard; and so light his balefire on board, and let him pa.s.s to a sea grave beyond the ken of men in strange magnificence. For we of the old faith hold that what a man buries in life, or takes with him to the grave in death, is his to enjoy in the hall of Odin when he comes thither. It was the ancient way, and a wonderful one--the way of the Asir with the dead Baldur.

Yet I had ever been told that the custom was long past, and that such a sea and fire burial was unheard of now. It was only the finding of the half-dead fire which minded me of it; for that which we had thought of a family flitting across the seas to Iceland--the sail, wet with the thunder rain of yesterday, spread to dry, and then the coming over the hills of the cast wind suddenly, setting the carelessly-moored ship adrift from some westward-looking haven, where lay no other craft which could follow her, had been quite enough to account for the wandering vessel.

Now I knew that only one thing would account for the purposeful firing of the ship. Yonder lay some mighty chief--and as I thought of that I clutched Bertric's arm and pointed.

"Not the pestilence, comrade," I said; "but what lies in yonder penthouse."

"What should be there?" he asked, wondering, for my voice was unsteady.

"We have boarded the funeral ship of some chief," I said. "He lies shut in that chamber with his treasures round him."

"To be burned in his ship at sea," said Bertric quietly. "Well, a Viking might find a less fitting funeral. Truly, it seems as if you may be right, and we must needs see if so it is."

Now Dalfin had listened, crossing himself once or twice, and he nodded.

"I like it not at all," he said; "but we must see what is yonder, and if Malcolm is right."

It was strange to me that these two showed no fear of him who doubtless lay there, in the chamber which his men had made for him.

We hold that the one who dares open the grave chamber is the hardiest of men, running most fearsome risk from the wrath of the dead hero. For, if aught will bring back the life to a warrior who has died, it will be that one should set hands on his war gear. And we hold that the ghost of a man hides near his body for many days, and therefore see that at hand is set the food that may be needful if the ghost hungers and will come back for a s.p.a.ce to eat. Else he may wander forth, troll-like and terrible, to seek what he needs.

I think that it is no wonder if I feared, having been taught all this. But my comrades were Christians, and on them was no fear of the quiet dead; but only an awe, and reverence. But of that I knew naught.

"Why must we open the house?" I said. "It is as if we courted the wrath of the chief. I have been told of men who would try to win the treasure from a mound where one was buried, and died with fear of what he met with there."

"Such an one deserved it," said Bertric quietly; "but we seek no treasure, nor would rob the dead. No doubt the wrath of Heaven lies hard on one who does so. Yet all this time we do not know if we are right or not."

"Let it be," said I.

"I do not think that we should," Dalfin said. "For if you are right--and you are a Norseman, and know--while it seems about the only possible reading of what has puzzled us--then we must needs sail to the Norway sh.o.r.e that the men of the chief may know what has happened, and either lay him in mound, or see this better carried out."

"Aye," said Bertric, "Dalfin is right. By chance we have been set in charge of this ship--maybe not at all by chance--that we may see honour done at last. Maybe we cannot make for Norway when the wind comes. If not, we must plan otherwise. Come, I cannot rest till I know."

But I held him back, making no secret of my fears.

"We shall have to reckon with the wrath of the hero," I said. "It will be terrible--and we know not what may happen."

At that Dalfin stared at me; but Bertric, who had seen other lands and knew the ways of men, smiled and set his hand on my arm.

"I do not fear him," he said. "It is impossible that if a chief lies there he can be wroth with men who will do naught but honour him. Think--is there any honour to the mighty dead that he should wander across the lone sea thus, as we met him?"

I knew that he was right, and did not gainsay him. After all, we were sure to have looked into that chamber presently, and to have found what I feared--suddenly and unexpectedly--would have been worse. So I set my fears aside as best I could, and went forward with them both to the end of the house, in which we had seen no sign of door. I thought that perhaps the upright timbers which closed the end might be loose; but they were nailed to the roof beam, against which they were set too firmly for us to move them, and we must look for some axe or other tool.