The king speaks to him, thinking that it is the swinging sail which he pretends to fear.

And then the horse starts and almost rears, for at the sound of the clear voice there rises somewhat from the hollow of the little craft, and the king himself stays in amaze.
For he sees before him the most wondrously beautiful maiden his eyes have rested on, golden-haired and blue-eyed, wan and weary with the long voyage from the far-off shore, and holding out to him piteous hands, blistered with the rough sheet and steering oar.

She says naught, but naught is needed.
"Lady," he says, doffing his gold-circled cap, "have no fear.

All is well, and you are safe.

Whence come you ?" But he has no answer, for the maiden sinks back into the boat swooning.