As for Brand the thrall, he fell on his knees and hid his face against a tree trunk, crying faintly: "It is the White Lady." So too thought I; and now I will not say that I feared her, for she was of my own race, and maybe she came to my help.
Then I saw some of the Danes gasp and start, and point across the water, speechless, and I looked also.
Plain enough in the firelight stood a tall white figure on the water of the mere, coming slowly towards us, and singing the while that wondrous song.

And ever as it drew nearer the song grew wilder; and the long white-robed arm pointed towards us.
Then the thrall leapt up and yelled, and fled into the dark wood.
And that was enough for the Danes.

They gave not another thought to us, but cried out in mortal terror and fled also, tripping and crashing through the underwood as they went; while the song of the White Lady grew louder, and she still neared us.
Then, still singing, her pace quickened, and suddenly I saw that she came in no magic wise, but in the fisher's canoe which I had seen.

And then the bows touched the shore, while with a wholesome clank of sword, and throwing back his long white cloak, Ottar the scald leapt ashore and came to us, dagger in hand, and cut our bonds.
"Into the boat, lord king--quick!" he said.

"We shall be safe there." Dazed and stiff I was, but I rose and followed Olaf; then Ottar pushed off, and we shot out towards the midst of the mere into safety.
Then the king stared at me and at Ottar for a moment in amazement, and then laughed until the woods rang again, and I and the scald were fain to join him.