Fate had decided that the grand and wise Knut was to be short-lived; and to leave nothing as successors but an ineffectual young Harald Harefoot, who soon perished, and a still stupider fiercely-drinking Harda-Knut, who rushed down of apoplexy (here in London City, as I guess), with the goblet at his mouth, drinking health and happiness at a wedding-feast, also before long.
Hakon having vanished in this dark way, there ensued a pause, both on Knut's part and on Norway's.

Pause or interregnum of some months, till it became certain, first, whether Hakon were actually dead, secondly, till Norway, and especially till King Knut himself, could decide what to do.

Knut, to the deep disappointment, which had to keep itself silent, of three or four chief Norway men, named none of these three or four Jarl of Norway; but bethought him of a certain Svein, a bastard son of his own,--who, and almost still more his English mother, much desired a career in the world fitter for him, thought they indignantly, than that of captain over Jomsburg, where alone the father had been able to provide for him hitherto.

Svein was sent to Norway as king or vice-king for Father Knut; and along with him his fond and vehement mother.
Neither of whom gained any favor from the Norse people by the kind of management they ultimately came to show.
Olaf on news of this change, and such uncertainty prevailing everywhere in Norway as to the future course of things, whether Svein would come, as was rumored of at last, and be able to maintain himself if he did,--thought there might be something in it of a chance for himself and his rights.

And, after lengthened hesitation, much prayer, pious invocation, and consideration, decided to go and try it.