anything about the matter?'

'Why should not he know as well as that ape of a Roman governor?'
asked Smid.

'Oh, the monks know everything,' said Pelagia. 'They go hundreds
and thousands of miles up the river, and cross the deserts among
fiends and monsters, where any one else would be eaten up, or go mad
at once.'

'Ah, the dear holy men! It's all by the sign of the blessed cross!'
exclaimed all the girls together, devoutly crossing themselves,
while two or three of the most enthusiastic were half-minded to go
forward and kneel to Philammon for his blessing; but hesitated,
their Gothic lovers being heathenishly stupid and prudish on such
points.

'Why should he not know as well as the prefect? Well said, Smid! I
believe that prefect's quill-driver was humbugging us when he said
Asgard was only ten days' sail up.'

'Why?' asked Wulf.

'I never give any reasons. What's the use of being an Amal, and a
son of Odin, if one has always to be giving reasons like a rascally
Roman lawyer? I say the governor looked like a liar; and I say this
monk looks like an honest fellow; and I choose to believe him, and
there is an end of it.'

'Don't look so cross at me, Prince Wulf; I'm sure it's not my fault;