Most surely I would have slain him when we fought, in the white heat of anger--and well would it have been if Ulfkytel had doomed him to death, as judge.

But against this helpless, cringing wretch, whose punishment was even now falling on him, how could I lift hand?
It seemed to me, moreover, that I was, as it were, watching to see when the stroke of doom would fall on him, as the earl said it surely must on the guilty.
The wind freshened, and the boat began to sing through the water, for it needed little to drive her well.

My spirits rose, so that I felt almost glad to be on the sea again, but Beorn waxed sick and lay groaning till he was worn out and fell asleep.
Now the breeze blew from the southwest, warm and damp, as it had held for a long time during this winter, which was open and mild so far.

And this was driving us over the same track which Lodbrok had taken as he came from his own place.

There was no hope of making the English shore again, and so I thought it well to do even as the jarl, and rear up the floorboards in such wise as to use them for a sail to hasten us wherever we might go.
So I roused Beorn, and showed him how to bestow himself out of my way, and made sail, as one might say.