life of mine. This life ended in times that are comparatively recent,
namely, early in the ninth century, as is fixed by the fact that the
Byzantine Empress, Irene, plays a part in the story.

The narrative, it will be observed, is not absolutely consecutive; that
is to say, all the details are not filled in. Indeed, it has returned to
me in a series of scenes or pictures, and although each scene or picture
has to do with every other, there are sometimes gaps between them. To
take one example among several--the journey of Olaf (in those days
my name was Olaf, or Michael after I was baptised) from the North to
Constantinople is not recorded. The curtain drops at Aar in Jutland
and rises again in Byzantium. Only those events which were of the most
importance seem to have burned themselves into my subconscious memory;
many minor details have vanished, or, at least, I cannot find them.
This, however, does not appear to me to be a matter for regret. If every
episode of a full and eventful life were painted in, the canvas would be
overloaded and the eye that studied it bewildered.

I do not think that I have anything more to say. My tale must speak
for itself. So I will but add that I hold it unnecessary to set out the
exact method by which I have been able to dig it and others from the
quarry of my past. It is a gift which, although small at first, I have
been able gradually to develop. Therefore, as I wish to hide my present
identity, I will only sign myself

The Editor.