The queen smiled at him pityingly.

"And what of your father?" she asked.

Olaf shook his head, and looked vacantly at the queen's beautiful
hands with their many gold rings.

"I never knew my father, lady," he replied, "for he was dead before
I came into the world."

"But do you not know his name?" pursued Allogia. Now Olaf feared
to tell a deliberate lie, and yet, for his uncle's sake, he dared
not answer with the truth. He stammered for an instant, and then,
feeling the dog's head against his hand, he caught the animal's ear
between his fingers and gave it a hard, firm pinch. The dog howled
with the sudden pain and sprang forward angrily. And the queen,
startled and alarmed, moved aside and presently walked majestically
from the hall.

Not again for many weeks did Allogia seek an answer to her question.
Sigurd, still fearing that his secret might be revealed, kept the
boy away from the court so that he might not be seen. But for all
his care the danger was for ever recurring.

King Valdemar had a mother named Gerda, who was so old and infirm
that she always lay abed. She was wonderfully skilled in spaedom,
and it was always the custom at yuletide, when the guests assembled
in the king's hall, that his mother was borne in thither and
placed in the high seat. There she prophesied touching any danger
overhanging the country, or similar thing, according to the questions