"The prince I know already.
Dalfin, I think it was, an Irish name." Dalfin bowed again, well pleased.

Then he took on himself to make us known in turn, as gravely as if in his father's court.
"This is my host, Malcolm, son of the Norse Jarl of Caithness, who has unfortunately succeeded his brave father after a gallant fight, in which I was honoured in taking part.

This is Bertric the Thane, of Lyme, in England, a shipmaster of long standing.

He joined us when we two escaped from Heidrek, who calls himself the Seafarer, and held us captive after burning out my host and his folk." "Heidrek the Seafarer!" she said, with a sharp sigh, looking up in wonder at us.

"When was it that he did this harm to you ?" "It was three days ago," I answered.