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And you do not wish to hurt poor Sigurd?"
"Certainly not, if _you_ are Sigurd," said Philip, half laughing; "I
should be very sorry to hurt you."
"You are _sure_?" he persisted, with a sort of obstinate eagerness. "You
have eyes which tell truths; but there are other things which are truer
than eyes--things in the air, in the grass, in the waves, and they talk
very strangely of you. I know you, of course! I knew you ages ago--long
before I saw you dead on the field of battle, and the black-haired
Valkyrie galloped with you to Valhalla! Yes; I knew you long before
that, and you knew me; for I was your King, and you were my vassal, wild
and rebellious--not the proud, rich Englishman you are to-day."
Errington startled. How could this Sigurd, as he called himself, be
aware of either his wealth or nationality?
The dwarf observed his movement of surprise with a cunning smile.
"Sigurd is wise,--Sigurd is brave! Who shall deceive him? He knows you
well; he will always know you.


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