"Yester eve," said Sigurd, "when you told me that you were the son
of King Triggvi Olafson, I could not easily believe your tale. But
when you spoke your mother's name and told me that she was from
Ofrestead, in the Uplands of Norway, then I knew very well that you
were telling me the truth. I looked into your eyes and I saw that
they were the eyes of Queen Astrid--the fairest woman in all the
Northland. In your very words I thought I could hear the music of
Queen Astrid's voice --"

"Can it be that my mother is known to you?" cried Olaf eagerly.
"Can it be that you can take me to where she lives?"

"Well do I know her," answered Sigurd. "But, alas! it is many
summers since I saw her last, nor had I heard any tidings of her
for a long, long while, until you told me that she had taken flight
from Norway. Tell me now, what is the name of him whose succour
she wished to seek in Gardarike?"

"Her brother's name," said Olaf, "is Sigurd Erikson."

"I am that same brother," smiled Sigurd, taking the boy by the
hand; "and it is because I am your uncle that I now take you with
me into Holmgard." He drew Olaf nearer to him and put his arm about
his neck. "And you shall live with me as my own dear foster son,"
he added, "and I will take care of you and teach you all that a
king's son should know, so that in the time to come you may be well
fitted to claim your dead father's realm. But it is not without
great risk that I do this thing, for I well know that there are
many men in Norway who would gladly hear of your death. Now, if
Gunnhild's sons should learn that you are living in Holmgard they