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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13131 ***
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 13131-h.htm or 13131-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/1/3/13131/13131-h/13131-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/1/3/13131/13131-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+THE WERE-WOLF
+
+by
+
+CLEMENCE HOUSMAN
+
+With Six Illustrations by Laurence Housman
+
+1896
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Holy Water]
+
+
+
+TO THE DEAR MEMORY OF
+E.W.P.
+
+"YOU WILL THINK OF ME SOMETIMES,
+MY DEAR?"
+
+
+
+LIST OF PLATES
+
+Holy Water
+Rol's Worship
+White Fell's Escape
+The Race
+The Finish
+Sweyn's Finding
+
+
+
+THE WERE-WOLF
+
+The great farm hall was ablaze with the fire-light, and noisy with
+laughter and talk and many-sounding work. None could be idle but
+the very young and the very old: little Rol, who was hugging a
+puppy, and old Trella, whose palsied hand fumbled over her
+knitting. The early evening had closed in, and the farm-servants,
+come from their outdoor work, had assembled in the ample hall,
+which gave space for a score or more of workers. Several of the
+men were engaged in carving, and to these were yielded the best
+place and light; others made or repaired fishing-tackle and
+harness, and a great seine net occupied three pairs of hands. Of
+the women most were sorting and mixing eider feather and chopping
+straw to add to it. Looms were there, though not in present use,
+but three wheels whirred emulously, and the finest and swiftest
+thread of the three ran between the fingers of the house-mistress.
+Near her were some children, busy too, plaiting wicks for candles
+and lamps. Each group of workers had a lamp in its centre, and
+those farthest from the fire had live heat from two braziers
+filled with glowing wood embers, replenished now and again from
+the generous hearth. But the flicker of the great fire was
+manifest to remotest corners, and prevailed beyond the limits of
+the weaker lights.
+
+Little Rol grew tired of his puppy, dropped it incontinently, and
+made an onslaught on Tyr, the old wolf-hound, who basked dozing,
+whimpering and twitching in his hunting dreams. Prone went Rol
+beside Tyr, his young arms round the shaggy neck, his curls
+against the black jowl. Tyr gave a perfunctory lick, and stretched
+with a sleepy sigh. Rol growled and rolled and shoved invitingly,
+but could only gain from the old dog placid toleration and a
+half-observant blink. "Take that then!" said Rol, indignant at this
+ignoring of his advances, and sent the puppy sprawling against the
+dignity that disdained him as playmate. The dog took no notice,
+and the child wandered off to find amusement elsewhere.
+
+The baskets of white eider feathers caught his eye far off in a
+distant corner. He slipped under the table, and crept along on
+all-fours, the ordinary common-place custom of walking down a room
+upright not being to his fancy. When close to the women he lay
+still for a moment watching, with his elbows on the floor and his
+chin in his palms. One of the women seeing him nodded and smiled,
+and presently he crept out behind her skirts and passed, hardly
+noticed, from one to another, till he found opportunity to possess
+himself of a large handful of feathers. With these he traversed
+the length of the room, under the table again, and emerged near
+the spinners. At the feet of the youngest he curled himself round,
+sheltered by her knees from the observation of the others, and
+disarmed her of interference by secretly displaying his handful
+with a confiding smile. A dubious nod satisfied him, and presently
+he started on the play he had devised. He took a tuft of the white
+down, and gently shook it free of his fingers close to the whirl
+of the wheel. The wind of the swift motion took it, spun it round
+and round in widening circles, till it floated above like a slow
+white moth. Little Rol's eyes danced, and the row of his small
+teeth shone in a silent laugh of delight. Another and another of
+the white tufts was sent whirling round like a winged thing in a
+spider's web, and floating clear at last. Presently the handful
+failed.
+
+Rol sprawled forward to survey the room, and contemplate another
+journey under the table. His shoulder, thrusting forward, checked
+the wheel for an instant; he shifted hastily. The wheel flew on
+with a jerk, and the thread snapped. "Naughty Rol!" said the girl.
+The swiftest wheel stopped also, and the house-mistress, Rol's
+aunt, leaned forward, and sighting the low curly head, gave a
+warning against mischief, and sent him off to old Trella's corner.
+
+Rol obeyed, and after a discreet period of obedience, sidled out
+again down the length of the room farthest from his aunt's eye. As
+he slipped in among the men, they looked up to see that their
+tools might be, as far as possible, out of reach of Rol's hands,
+and close to their own. Nevertheless, before long he managed to
+secure a fine chisel and take off its point on the leg of the
+table. The carver's strong objections to this disconcerted Rol,
+who for five minutes thereafter effaced himself under the table.
+
+During this seclusion he contemplated the many pairs of legs that
+surrounded him, and almost shut out the light of the fire. How
+very odd some of the legs were: some were curved where they should
+be straight, some were straight where they should be curved, and,
+as Rol said to himself, "they all seemed screwed on differently."
+Some were tucked away modestly under the benches, others were
+thrust far out under the table, encroaching on Rol's own
+particular domain. He stretched out his own short legs and
+regarded them critically, and, after comparison, favourably. Why
+were not all legs made like his, or like _his_?
+
+These legs approved by Rol were a little apart from the rest. He
+crawled opposite and again made comparison. His face grew quite
+solemn as he thought of the innumerable days to come before his
+legs could be as long and strong. He hoped they would be just like
+those, his models, as straight as to bone, as curved as to muscle.
+
+A few moments later Sweyn of the long legs felt a small hand
+caressing his foot, and looking down, met the upturned eyes of his
+little cousin Rol. Lying on his back, still softly patting and
+stroking the young man's foot, the child was quiet and happy for a
+good while. He watched the movement of the strong deft hands, and
+the shifting of the bright tools. Now and then, minute chips of
+wood, puffed off by Sweyn, fell down upon his face. At last he
+raised himself, very gently, lest a jog should wake impatience in
+the carver, and crossing his own legs round Sweyn's ankle,
+clasping with his arms too, laid his head against the knee. Such
+act is evidence of a child's most wonderful hero-worship. Quite
+content was Rol, and more than content when Sweyn paused a minute
+to joke, and pat his head and pull his curls. Quiet he remained,
+as long as quiescence is possible to limbs young as his. Sweyn
+forgot he was near, hardly noticed when his leg was gently
+released, and never saw the stealthy abstraction of one of his
+tools.
+
+[Illustration: Rol's Worship]
+
+Ten minutes thereafter was a lamentable wail from low on the
+floor, rising to the full pitch of Rol's healthy lungs; for his
+hand was gashed across, and the copious bleeding terrified him.
+Then was there soothing and comforting, washing and binding, and a
+modicum of scolding, till the loud outcry sank into occasional
+sobs, and the child, tear-stained and subdued, was returned to the
+chimney-corner settle, where Trella nodded.
+
+In the reaction after pain and fright, Rol found that the quiet of
+that fire-lit corner was to his mind. Tyr, too, disdained him no
+longer, but, roused by his sobs, showed all the concern and
+sympathy that a dog can by licking and wistful watching. A little
+shame weighed also upon his spirits. He wished he had not cried
+quite so much. He remembered how once Sweyn had come home with his
+arm torn down from the shoulder, and a dead bear; and how he had
+never winced nor said a word, though his lips turned white with
+pain. Poor little Rol gave another sighing sob over his own
+faint-hearted shortcomings.
+
+The light and motion of the great fire began to tell strange
+stories to the child, and the wind in the chimney roared a
+corroborative note now and then. The great black mouth of the
+chimney, impending high over the hearth, received as into a
+mysterious gulf murky coils of smoke and brightness of aspiring
+sparks; and beyond, in the high darkness, were muttering and
+wailing and strange doings, so that sometimes the smoke rushed
+back in panic, and curled out and up to the roof, and condensed
+itself to invisibility among the rafters. And then the wind would
+rage after its lost prey, and rush round the house, rattling and
+shrieking at window and door.
+
+In a lull, after one such loud gust, Rol lifted his head in
+surprise and listened. A lull had also come on the babel of talk,
+and thus could be heard with strange distinctness a sound outside
+the door--the sound of a child's voice, a child's hands. "Open,
+open; let me in!" piped the little voice from low down, lower than
+the handle, and the latch rattled as though a tiptoe child reached
+up to it, and soft small knocks were struck. One near the door
+sprang up and opened it. "No one is here," he said. Tyr lifted his
+head and gave utterance to a howl, loud, prolonged, most dismal.
+
+Sweyn, not able to believe that his ears had deceived him, got up
+and went to the door. It was a dark night; the clouds were heavy
+with snow, that had fallen fitfully when the wind lulled.
+Untrodden snow lay up to the porch; there was no sight nor sound
+of any human being. Sweyn strained his eyes far and near, only to
+see dark sky, pure snow, and a line of black fir trees on a hill
+brow, bowing down before the wind. "It must have been the wind,"
+he said, and closed the door.
+
+Many faces looked scared. The sound of a child's voice had been so
+distinct--and the words "Open, open; let me in!" The wind might
+creak the wood, or rattle the latch, but could not speak with a
+child's voice, nor knock with the soft plain blows that a plump
+fist gives. And the strange unusual howl of the wolf-hound was an
+omen to be feared, be the rest what it might. Strange things were
+said by one and another, till the rebuke of the house-mistress
+quelled them into far-off whispers. For a time after there was
+uneasiness, constraint, and silence; then the chill fear thawed by
+degrees, and the babble of talk flowed on again.
+
+Yet half-an-hour later a very slight noise outside the door
+sufficed to arrest every hand, every tongue. Every head was
+raised, every eye fixed in one direction. "It is Christian; he is
+late," said Sweyn.
+
+No, no; this is a feeble shuffle, not a young man's tread. With
+the sound of uncertain feet came the hard tap-tap of a stick
+against the door, and the high-pitched voice of eld, "Open, open;
+let me in!" Again Tyr flung up his head in a long doleful howl.
+
+Before the echo of the tapping stick and the high voice had fairly
+died away, Sweyn had sprung across to the door and flung it wide.
+"No one again," he said in a steady voice, though his eyes looked
+startled as he stared out. He saw the lonely expanse of snow, the
+clouds swagging low, and between the two the line of dark
+fir-trees bowing in the wind. He closed the door without a word of
+comment, and re-crossed the room.
+
+A score of blanched faces were turned to him as though he must be
+solver of the enigma. He could not be unconscious of this mute
+eye-questioning, and it disturbed his resolute air of composure.
+He hesitated, glanced towards his mother, the house-mistress, then
+back at the frightened folk, and gravely, before them all, made
+the sign of the cross. There was a flutter of hands as the sign
+was repeated by all, and the dead silence was stirred as by a huge
+sigh, for the held breath of many was freed as though the sign
+gave magic relief.
+
+Even the house-mistress was perturbed. She left her wheel and
+crossed the room to her son, and spoke with him for a moment in a
+low tone that none could overhear. But a moment later her voice
+was high-pitched and loud, so that all might benefit by her rebuke
+of the "heathen chatter" of one of the girls. Perhaps she essayed
+to silence thus her own misgivings and forebodings.
+
+No other voice dared speak now with its natural fulness. Low tones
+made intermittent murmurs, and now and then silence drifted over
+the whole room. The handling of tools was as noiseless as might
+be, and suspended on the instant if the door rattled in a gust of
+wind. After a time Sweyn left his work, joined the group nearest
+the door, and loitered there on the pretence of giving advice and
+help to the unskilful.
+
+A man's tread was heard outside in the porch. "Christian!" said
+Sweyn and his mother simultaneously, he confidently, she
+authoritatively, to set the checked wheels going again. But Tyr
+flung up his head with an appalling howl.
+
+"Open, open; let me in!"
+
+It was a man's voice, and the door shook and rattled as a man's
+strength beat against it. Sweyn could feel the planks quivering,
+as on the instant his hand was upon the door, flinging it open, to
+face the blank porch, and beyond only snow and sky, and firs
+aslant in the wind.
+
+He stood for a long minute with the open door in his hand. The
+bitter wind swept in with its icy chill, but a deadlier chill of
+fear came swifter, and seemed to freeze the beating of hearts.
+Sweyn stepped back to snatch up a great bearskin cloak.
+
+"Sweyn, where are you going?"
+
+"No farther than the porch, mother," and he stepped out and closed
+the door.
+
+He wrapped himself in the heavy fur, and leaning against the most
+sheltered wall of the porch, steeled his nerves to face the devil
+and all his works. No sound of voices came from within; the most
+distinct sound was the crackle and roar of the fire.
+
+It was bitterly cold. His feet grew numb, but he forbore stamping
+them into warmth lest the sound should strike panic within; nor
+would he leave the porch, nor print a foot-mark on the untrodden
+white that declared so absolutely how no human voices and hands
+could have approached the door since snow fell two hours or more
+ago. "When the wind drops there will be more snow," thought Sweyn.
+
+For the best part of an hour he kept his watch, and saw no living
+thing--heard no unwonted sound. "I will freeze here no longer," he
+muttered, and re-entered.
+
+One woman gave a half-suppressed scream as his hand was laid on
+the latch, and then a gasp of relief as he came in. No one
+questioned him, only his mother said, in a tone of forced
+unconcern, "Could you not see Christian coming?" as though she
+were made anxious only by the absence of her younger son. Hardly
+had Sweyn stamped near to the fire than clear knocking was heard
+at the door. Tyr leapt from the hearth, his eyes red as the fire,
+his fangs showing white in the black jowl, his neck ridged and
+bristling; and overleaping Rol, ramped at the door, barking
+furiously.
+
+Outside the door a clear mellow voice was calling. Tyr's bark made
+the words undistinguishable.
+
+No one offered to stir towards the door before Sweyn.
+
+He stalked down the room resolutely, lifted the latch, and swung
+back the door.
+
+A white-robed woman glided in.
+
+No wraith! Living--beautiful--young.
+
+Tyr leapt upon her.
+
+Lithely she baulked the sharp fangs with folds of her long fur
+robe, and snatching from her girdle a small two-edged axe, whirled
+it up for a blow of defence.
+
+Sweyn caught the dog by the collar, and dragged him off yelling
+and struggling.
+
+The stranger stood in the doorway motionless, one foot set
+forward, one arm flung up, till the house-mistress hurried down
+the room; and Sweyn, relinquishing to others the furious Tyr,
+turned again to close the door, and offer excuse for so fierce a
+greeting. Then she lowered her arm, slung the axe in its place at
+her waist, loosened the furs about her face, and shook over her
+shoulders the long white robe--all as it were with the sway of one
+movement.
+
+She was a maiden, tall and very fair. The fashion of her dress was
+strange, half masculine, yet not unwomanly. A fine fur tunic,
+reaching but little below the knee, was all the skirt she wore;
+below were the cross-bound shoes and leggings that a hunter wears.
+A white fur cap was set low upon the brows, and from its edge
+strips of fur fell lappet-wise about her shoulders; two of these
+at her entrance had been drawn forward and crossed about her
+throat, but now, loosened and thrust back, left unhidden long
+plaits of fair hair that lay forward on shoulder and breast, down
+to the ivory-studded girdle where the axe gleamed.
+
+Sweyn and his mother led the stranger to the hearth without
+question or sign of curiosity, till she voluntarily told her tale
+of a long journey to distant kindred, a promised guide unmet, and
+signals and landmarks mistaken.
+
+"Alone!" exclaimed Sweyn in astonishment. "Have you journeyed thus
+far, a hundred leagues, alone?"
+
+She answered "Yes" with a little smile.
+
+"Over the hills and the wastes! Why, the folk there are savage and
+wild as beasts."
+
+She dropped her hand upon her axe with a laugh of some scorn.
+
+"I fear neither man nor beast; some few fear me." And then she
+told strange tales of fierce attack and defence, and of the bold
+free huntress life she had led.
+
+Her words came a little slowly and deliberately, as though she
+spoke in a scarce familiar tongue; now and then she hesitated, and
+stopped in a phrase, as though for lack of some word.
+
+She became the centre of a group of listeners. The interest she
+excited dissipated, in some degree, the dread inspired by the
+mysterious voices. There was nothing ominous about this young,
+bright, fair reality, though her aspect was strange.
+
+Little Rol crept near, staring at the stranger with all his might.
+Unnoticed, he softly stroked and patted a corner of her soft white
+robe that reached to the floor in ample folds. He laid his cheek
+against it caressingly, and then edged up close to her knees.
+
+"What is your name?" he asked.
+
+The stranger's smile and ready answer, as she looked down, saved
+Rol from the rebuke merited by his unmannerly question.
+
+"My real name," she said, "would be uncouth to your ears and
+tongue. The folk of this country have given me another name, and
+from this" (she laid her hand on the fur robe) "they call me
+'White Fell.'"
+
+Little Rol repeated it to himself, stroking and patting as before.
+"White Fell, White Fell."
+
+The fair face, and soft, beautiful dress pleased Rol. He knelt up,
+with his eyes on her face and an air of uncertain determination,
+like a robin's on a doorstep, and plumped his elbows into her lap
+with a little gasp at his own audacity.
+
+"Rol!" exclaimed his aunt; but, "Oh, let him!" said White Fell,
+smiling and stroking his head; and Rol stayed.
+
+He advanced farther, and panting at his own adventurousness in the
+face of his aunt's authority, climbed up on to her knees. Her
+welcoming arms hindered any protest. He nestled happily, fingering
+the axe head, the ivory studs in her girdle, the ivory clasp at
+her throat, the plaits of fair hair; rubbing his head against the
+softness of her fur-clad shoulder, with a child's full confidence
+in the kindness of beauty.
+
+White Fell had not uncovered her head, only knotted the pendant
+fur loosely behind her neck. Rol reached up his hand towards it,
+whispering her name to himself, "White Fell, White Fell," then
+slid his arms round her neck, and kissed her--once--twice. She
+laughed delightedly, and kissed him again.
+
+"The child plagues you?" said Sweyn.
+
+"No, indeed," she answered, with an earnestness so intense as to
+seem disproportionate to the occasion.
+
+Rol settled himself again on her lap, and began to unwind the
+bandage bound round his hand. He paused a little when he saw where
+the blood had soaked through; then went on till his hand was bare
+and the cut displayed, gaping and long, though only skin deep. He
+held it up towards White Fell, desirous of her pity and sympathy.
+
+At sight of it, and the blood-stained linen, she drew in her
+breath suddenly, clasped Rol to her--hard, hard--till he began to
+struggle. Her face was hidden behind the boy, so that none could
+see its expression. It had lighted up with a most awful glee.
+
+Afar, beyond the fir-grove, beyond the low hill behind, the absent
+Christian was hastening his return. From daybreak he had been
+afoot, carrying notice of a bear hunt to all the best hunters of
+the farms and hamlets that lay within a radius of twelve miles.
+Nevertheless, having been detained till a late hour, he now broke
+into a run, going with a long smooth stride of apparent ease that
+fast made the miles diminish.
+
+He entered the midnight blackness of the fir-grove with scarcely
+slackened pace, though the path was invisible; and passing through
+into the open again, sighted the farm lying a furlong off down the
+slope. Then he sprang out freely, and almost on the instant gave
+one great sideways leap, and stood still. There in the snow was
+the track of a great wolf.
+
+His hand went to his knife, his only weapon. He stooped, knelt
+down, to bring his eyes to the level of a beast, and peered about;
+his teeth set, his heart beat a little harder than the pace of his
+running insisted on. A solitary wolf, nearly always savage and of
+large size, is a formidable beast that will not hesitate to attack
+a single man. This wolf-track was the largest Christian had ever
+seen, and, so far as he could judge, recently made. It led from
+under the fir-trees down the slope. Well for him, he thought, was
+the delay that had so vexed him before: well for him that he had
+not passed through the dark fir-grove when that danger of jaws
+lurked there. Going warily, he followed the track.
+
+It led down the slope, across a broad ice-bound stream, along the
+level beyond, making towards the farm. A less precise knowledge
+had doubted, and guessed that here might have come straying big
+Tyr or his like; but Christian was sure, knowing better than to
+mistake between footmark of dog and wolf.
+
+Straight on--straight on towards the farm.
+
+Surprised and anxious grew Christian, that a prowling wolf should
+dare so near. He drew his knife and pressed on, more hastily, more
+keen-eyed. Oh that Tyr were with him!
+
+Straight on, straight on, even to the very door, where the snow
+failed. His heart seemed to give a great leap and then stop. There
+the track _ended_.
+
+Nothing lurked in the porch, and there was no sign of return. The
+firs stood straight against the sky, the clouds lay low; for the
+wind had fallen and a few snowflakes came drifting down. In a
+horror of surprise, Christian stood dazed a moment: then he lifted
+the latch and went in. His glance took in all the old familiar
+forms and faces, and with them that of the stranger, fur-clad and
+beautiful. The awful truth flashed upon him: he knew what she was.
+
+Only a few were startled by the rattle of the latch as he entered.
+The room was filled with bustle and movement, for it was the
+supper hour, when all tools were laid aside, and trestles and
+tables shifted. Christian had no knowledge of what he said and
+did; he moved and spoke mechanically, half thinking that soon he
+must wake from this horrible dream. Sweyn and his mother supposed
+him to be cold and dead-tired, and spared all unnecessary
+questions. And he found himself seated beside the hearth, opposite
+that dreadful Thing that looked like a beautiful girl; watching
+her every movement, curdling with horror to see her fondle the
+child Rol.
+
+Sweyn stood near them both, intent upon White Fell also; but how
+differently! She seemed unconscious of the gaze of both--neither
+aware of the chill dread in the eyes of Christian, nor of Sweyn's
+warm admiration.
+
+These two brothers, who were twins, contrasted greatly, despite
+their striking likeness. They were alike in regular profile, fair
+brown hair, and deep blue eyes; but Sweyn's features were perfect
+as a young god's, while Christian's showed faulty details. Thus,
+the line of his mouth was set too straight, the eyes shelved too
+deeply back, and the contour of the face flowed in less generous
+curves than Sweyn's. Their height was the same, but Christian was
+too slender for perfect proportion, while Sweyn's well-knit frame,
+broad shoulders, and muscular arms, made him pre-eminent for manly
+beauty as well as for strength. As a hunter Sweyn was without
+rival; as a fisher without rival. All the countryside acknowledged
+him to be the best wrestler, rider, dancer, singer. Only in speed
+could he be surpassed, and in that only by his younger brother.
+All others Sweyn could distance fairly; but Christian could outrun
+him easily. Ay, he could keep pace with Sweyn's most breathless
+burst, and laugh and talk the while. Christian took little pride
+in his fleetness of foot, counting a man's legs to be the least
+worthy of his members. He had no envy of his brother's athletic
+superiority, though to several feats he had made a moderate
+second. He loved as only a twin can love--proud of all that Sweyn
+did, content with all that Sweyn was; humbly content also that his
+own great love should not be so exceedingly returned, since he
+knew himself to be so far less love-worthy.
+
+Christian dared not, in the midst of women and children, launch
+the horror that he knew into words. He waited to consult his
+brother; but Sweyn did not, or would not, notice the signal he
+made, and kept his face always turned towards White Fell.
+Christian drew away from the hearth, unable to remain passive with
+that dread upon him.
+
+"Where is Tyr?" he said suddenly. Then, catching sight of the dog
+in a distant corner, "Why is he chained there?"
+
+"He flew at the stranger," one answered.
+
+Christian's eyes glowed. "Yes?" he said, interrogatively.
+
+"He was within an ace of having his brain knocked out."
+
+"Tyr?"
+
+"Yes; she was nimbly up with that little axe she has at her waist.
+It was well for old Tyr that his master throttled him off."
+
+Christian went without a word to the corner where Tyr was chained.
+The dog rose up to meet him, as piteous and indignant as a dumb
+beast can be. He stroked the black head. "Good Tyr! brave dog!"
+
+They knew, they only; and the man and the dumb dog had comfort of
+each other.
+
+Christian's eyes turned again towards White Fell: Tyr's also, and
+he strained against the length of the chain. Christian's hand lay
+on the dog's neck, and he felt it ridge and bristle with the
+quivering of impotent fury. Then he began to quiver in like
+manner, with a fury born of reason, not instinct; as impotent
+morally as was Tyr physically. Oh! the woman's form that he dare
+not touch! Anything but that, and he with Tyr would be free to
+kill or be killed.
+
+Then he returned to ask fresh questions.
+
+"How long has the stranger been here?"
+
+"She came about half-an-hour before you."
+
+"Who opened the door to her?"
+
+"Sweyn: no one else dared."
+
+The tone of the answer was mysterious.
+
+"Why?" queried Christian. "Has anything strange happened? Tell
+me."
+
+For answer he was told in a low undertone of the summons at the
+door thrice repeated without human agency; and of Tyr's ominous
+howls; and of Sweyn's fruitless watch outside.
+
+Christian turned towards his brother in a torment of impatience
+for a word apart. The board was spread, and Sweyn was leading
+White Fell to the guest's place. This was more awful: she would
+break bread with them under the roof-tree!
+
+He started forward, and touching Sweyn's arm, whispered an urgent
+entreaty. Sweyn stared, and shook his head in angry impatience.
+
+Thereupon Christian would take no morsel of food.
+
+His opportunity came at last. White Fell questioned of the
+landmarks of the country, and of one Cairn Hill, which was an
+appointed meeting-place at which she was due that night. The
+house-mistress and Sweyn both exclaimed.
+
+"It is three long miles away," said Sweyn; "with no place for
+shelter but a wretched hut. Stay with us this night, and I will
+show you the way to-morrow."
+
+White Fell seemed to hesitate. "Three miles," she said; "then I
+should be able to see or hear a signal."
+
+"I will look out," said Sweyn; "then, if there be no signal, you
+must not leave us."
+
+He went to the door. Christian rose silently, and followed him
+out.
+
+"Sweyn, do you know what she is?"
+
+Sweyn, surprised at the vehement grasp, and low hoarse voice, made
+answer:
+
+"She? Who? White Fell?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"She is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen."
+
+"She is a Were-Wolf."
+
+Sweyn burst out laughing. "Are you mad?" he asked.
+
+"No; here, see for yourself."
+
+Christian drew him out of the porch, pointing to the snow where
+the footmarks had been. Had been, for now they were not. Snow was
+falling fast, and every dint was blotted out.
+
+"Well?" asked Sweyn.
+
+"Had you come when I signed to you, you would have seen for
+yourself."
+
+"Seen what?"
+
+"The footprints of a wolf leading up to the door; none leading
+away."
+
+It was impossible not to be startled by the tone alone, though it
+was hardly above a whisper. Sweyn eyed his brother anxiously, but
+in the darkness could make nothing of his face. Then he laid his
+hands kindly and re-assuringly on Christian's shoulders and felt
+how he was quivering with excitement and horror.
+
+"One sees strange things," he said, "when the cold has got into
+the brain behind the eyes; you came in cold and worn out."
+
+"No," interrupted Christian. "I saw the track first on the brow of
+the slope, and followed it down right here to the door. This is no
+delusion."
+
+Sweyn in his heart felt positive that it was. Christian was given
+to day-dreams and strange fancies, though never had he been
+possessed with so mad a notion before.
+
+"Don't you believe me?" said Christian desperately. "You must. I
+swear it is sane truth. Are you blind? Why, even Tyr knows."
+
+"You will be clearer headed to-morrow after a night's rest. Then
+come too, if you will, with White Fell, to the Hill Cairn; and if
+you have doubts still, watch and follow, and see what footprints
+she leaves."
+
+Galled by Sweyn's evident contempt Christian turned abruptly to
+the door. Sweyn caught him back.
+
+"What now, Christian? What are you going to do?"
+
+"You do not believe me; my mother shall."
+
+Sweyn's grasp tightened. "You shall not tell her," he said
+authoritatively.
+
+Customarily Christian was so docile to his brother's mastery that
+it was now a surprising thing when he wrenched himself free
+vigorously, and said as determinedly as Sweyn, "She shall know!"
+but Sweyn was nearer the door and would not let him pass.
+
+"There has been scare enough for one night already. If this notion
+of yours will keep, broach it to-morrow." Christian would not
+yield.
+
+"Women are so easily scared," pursued Sweyn, "and are ready to
+believe any folly without shadow of proof. Be a man, Christian,
+and fight this notion of a Were-Wolf by yourself."
+
+"If you would believe me," began Christian.
+
+"I believe you to be a fool," said Sweyn, losing patience.
+"Another, who was not your brother, might believe you to be a
+knave, and guess that you had transformed White Fell into a
+Were-Wolf because she smiled more readily on me than on you."
+
+The jest was not without foundation, for the grace of White Fell's
+bright looks had been bestowed on him, on Christian never a whit.
+Sweyn's coxcombery was always frank, and most forgiveable, and not
+without fair colour.
+
+"If you want an ally," continued Sweyn, "confide in old Trella.
+Out of her stores of wisdom, if her memory holds good, she can
+instruct you in the orthodox manner of tackling a Were-Wolf. If I
+remember aright, you should watch the suspected person till
+midnight, when the beast's form must be resumed, and retained ever
+after if a human eye sees the change; or, better still, sprinkle
+hands and feet with holy water, which is certain death. Oh! never
+fear, but old Trella will be equal to the occasion."
+
+Sweyn's contempt was no longer good-humoured; some touch of
+irritation or resentment rose at this monstrous doubt of White
+Fell. But Christian was too deeply distressed to take offence.
+
+"You speak of them as old wives' tales; but if you had seen the
+proof I have seen, you would be ready at least to wish them true,
+if not also to put them to the test."
+
+"Well," said Sweyn, with a laugh that had a little sneer in it,
+"put them to the test! I will not object to that, if you will only
+keep your notions to yourself. Now, Christian, give me your word
+for silence, and we will freeze here no longer."
+
+Christian remained silent.
+
+Sweyn put his hands on his shoulders again and vainly tried to see
+his face in the darkness.
+
+"We have never quarrelled yet, Christian?"
+
+"I have never quarrelled," returned the other, aware for the first
+time that his dictatorial brother had sometimes offered occasion
+for quarrel, had he been ready to take it.
+
+"Well," said Sweyn emphatically, "if you speak against White Fell
+to any other, as to-night you have spoken to me--we shall."
+
+He delivered the words like an ultimatum, turned sharp round, and
+re-entered the house. Christian, more fearful and wretched than
+before, followed.
+
+"Snow is falling fast: not a single light is to be seen."
+
+White Fell's eyes passed over Christian without apparent notice,
+and turned bright and shining upon Sweyn.
+
+"Nor any signal to be heard?" she queried. "Did you not hear the
+sound of a sea-horn?"
+
+"I saw nothing, and heard nothing; and signal or no signal, the
+heavy snow would keep you here perforce."
+
+She smiled her thanks beautifully. And Christian's heart sank like
+lead with a deadly foreboding, as he noted what a light was
+kindled in Sweyn's eyes by her smile.
+
+That night, when all others slept, Christian, the weariest of all,
+watched outside the guest-chamber till midnight was past. No
+sound, not the faintest, could be heard. Could the old tale be
+true of the midnight change? What was on the other side of the
+door, a woman or a beast? he would have given his right hand to
+know. Instinctively he laid his hand on the latch, and drew it
+softly, though believing that bolts fastened the inner side. The
+door yielded to his hand; he stood on the threshold; a keen gust
+of air cut at him; the window stood open; the room was empty.
+
+So Christian could sleep with a somewhat lightened heart.
+
+In the morning there was surprise and conjecture when White Fell's
+absence was discovered. Christian held his peace. Not even to his
+brother did he say how he knew that she had fled before midnight;
+and Sweyn, though evidently greatly chagrined, seemed to disdain
+reference to the subject of Christian's fears.
+
+The elder brother alone joined the bear hunt; Christian found
+pretext to stay behind. Sweyn, being out of humour, manifested his
+contempt by uttering not a single expostulation.
+
+All that day, and for many a day after, Christian would never go
+out of sight of his home. Sweyn alone noticed how he manoeuvred for
+this, and was clearly annoyed by it. White Fell's name was never
+mentioned between them, though not seldom was it heard in general
+talk. Hardly a day passed but little Rol asked when White Fell
+would come again: pretty White Fell, who kissed like a snowflake.
+And if Sweyn answered, Christian would be quite sure that the
+light in his eyes, kindled by White Fell's smile, had not yet died
+out.
+
+Little Rol! Naughty, merry, fairhaired little Rol. A day came when
+his feet raced over the threshold never to return; when his
+chatter and laugh were heard no more; when tears of anguish were
+wept by eyes that never would see his bright head again: never
+again, living or dead.
+
+He was seen at dusk for the last time, escaping from the house
+with his puppy, in freakish rebellion against old Trella. Later,
+when his absence had begun to cause anxiety, his puppy crept back
+to the farm, cowed, whimpering and yelping, a pitiful, dumb lump
+of terror, without intelligence or courage to guide the frightened
+search.
+
+Rol was never found, nor any trace of him. Where he had perished
+was never known; how he had perished was known only by an awful
+guess--a wild beast had devoured him.
+
+Christian heard the conjecture "a wolf"; and a horrible certainty
+flashed upon him that he knew what wolf it was. He tried to
+declare what he knew, but Sweyn saw him start at the words with
+white face and struggling lips; and, guessing his purpose, pulled
+him back, and kept him silent, hardly, by his imperious grip and
+wrathful eyes, and one low whisper.
+
+That Christian should retain his most irrational suspicion against
+beautiful White Fell was, to Sweyn, evidence of a weak obstinacy
+of mind that would but thrive upon expostulation and argument. But
+this evident intention to direct the passions of grief and anguish
+to a hatred and fear of the fair stranger, such as his own, was
+intolerable, and Sweyn set his will against it. Again Christian
+yielded to his brother's stronger words and will, and against his
+own judgment consented to silence.
+
+Repentance came before the new moon, the first of the year, was
+old. White Fell came again, smiling as she entered, as though
+assured of a glad and kindly welcome; and, in truth, there was
+only one who saw again her fair face and strange white garb
+without pleasure. Sweyn's face glowed with delight, while
+Christian's grew pale and rigid as death. He had given his word to
+keep silence; but he had not thought that she would dare to come
+again. Silence was impossible, face to face with that Thing,
+impossible. Irrepressibly he cried out:
+
+"Where is Rol?"
+
+Not a quiver disturbed White Fell's face. She heard, yet remained
+bright and tranquil. Sweyn's eyes flashed round at his brother
+dangerously. Among the women some tears fell at the poor child's
+name; but none caught alarm from its sudden utterance, for the
+thought of Rol rose naturally. Where was little Rol, who had
+nestled in the stranger's arms, kissing her; and watched for her
+since; and prattled of her daily?
+
+Christian went out silently. One only thing there was that he
+could do, and he must not delay. His horror overmastered any
+curiosity to hear White Fell's smooth excuses and smiling
+apologies for her strange and uncourteous departure; or her easy
+tale of the circumstances of her return; or to watch her bearing
+as she heard the sad tale of little Rol.
+
+The swiftest runner of the country-side had started on his hardest
+race: little less than three leagues and back, which he reckoned
+to accomplish in two hours, though the night was moonless and the
+way rugged. He rushed against the still cold air till it felt like
+a wind upon his face. The dim homestead sank below the ridges at
+his back, and fresh ridges of snowlands rose out of the obscure
+horizon-level to drive past him as the stirless air drove, and
+sink away behind into obscure level again. He took no conscious
+heed of landmarks, not even when all sign of a path was gone under
+depths of snow. His will was set to reach his goal with unexampled
+speed; and thither by instinct his physical forces bore him,
+without one definite thought to guide.
+
+And the idle brain lay passive, inert, receiving into its vacancy
+restless siftings of past sights and sounds: Rol, weeping,
+laughing, playing, coiled in the arms of that dreadful Thing:
+Tyr--O Tyr!--white fangs in the black jowl: the women who wept on
+The foolish puppy, precious for the child's last touch: footprints
+from pine wood to door: the smiling face among furs, of such
+womanly beauty--smiling--smiling: and Sweyn's face.
+
+"Sweyn, Sweyn, O Sweyn, my brother!"
+
+Sweyn's angry laugh possessed his ear within the sound of the wind
+of his speed; Sweyn's scorn assailed more quick and keen than the
+biting cold at his throat. And yet he was unimpressed by any
+thought of how Sweyn's anger and scorn would rise, if this errand
+were known.
+
+Sweyn was a sceptic. His utter disbelief in Christian's testimony
+regarding the footprints was based upon positive scepticism. His
+reason refused to bend in accepting the possibility of the
+supernatural materialised. That a living beast could ever be other
+than palpably bestial--pawed, toothed, shagged, and eared as such,
+was to him incredible; far more that a human presence could be
+transformed from its god-like aspect, upright, free-handed, with
+brows, and speech, and laughter. The wild and fearful legends that
+he had known from childhood and then believed, he regarded now as
+built upon facts distorted, overlaid by imagination, and quickened
+by superstition. Even the strange summons at the threshold, that
+he himself had vainly answered, was, after the first shock of
+surprise, rationally explained by him as malicious foolery on the
+part of some clever trickster, who withheld the key to the enigma.
+
+To the younger brother all life was a spiritual mystery, veiled
+from his clear knowledge by the density of flesh. Since he knew
+his own body to be linked to the complex and antagonistic forces
+that constitute one soul, it seemed to him not impossibly strange
+that one spiritual force should possess divers forms for widely
+various manifestation. Nor, to him, was it great effort to believe
+that as pure water washes away all natural foulness, so water,
+holy by consecration, must needs cleanse God's world from that
+supernatural evil Thing. Therefore, faster than ever man's foot
+had covered those leagues, he sped under the dark, still night,
+over the waste, trackless snow-ridges to the far-away church,
+where salvation lay in the holy-water stoup at the door. His faith
+was as firm as any that wrought miracles in days past, simple as a
+child's wish, strong as a man's will.
+
+He was hardly missed during these hours, every second of which was
+by him fulfilled to its utmost extent by extremest effort that
+sinews and nerves could attain. Within the homestead the while,
+the easy moments went bright with words and looks of unwonted
+animation, for the kindly, hospitable instincts of the inmates
+were roused into cordial expression of welcome and interest by the
+grace and beauty of the returned stranger.
+
+But Sweyn was eager and earnest, with more than a host's courteous
+warmth. The impression that at her first coming had charmed him,
+that had lived since through memory, deepened now in her actual
+presence. Sweyn, the matchless among men, acknowledged in this
+fair White Fell a spirit high and bold as his own, and a frame so
+firm and capable that only bulk was lacking for equal strength.
+Yet the white skin was moulded most smoothly, without such
+muscular swelling as made his might evident. Such love as his
+frank self-love could concede was called forth by an ardent
+admiration for this supreme stranger. More admiration than love
+was in his passion, and therefore he was free from a lover's
+hesitancy and delicate reserve and doubts. Frankly and boldly he
+courted her favour by looks and tones, and an address that came of
+natural ease, needless of skill by practice.
+
+Nor was she a woman to be wooed otherwise. Tender whispers and
+sighs would never gain her ear; but her eyes would brighten and
+shine if she heard of a brave feat, and her prompt hand in
+sympathy fall swiftly on the axe-haft and clasp it hard. That
+movement ever fired Sweyn's admiration anew; he watched for it,
+strove to elicit it, and glowed when it came. Wonderful and
+beautiful was that wrist, slender and steel-strong; also the
+smooth shapely hand, that curved so fast and firm, ready to deal
+instant death.
+
+Desiring to feel the pressure of these hands, this bold lover
+schemed with palpable directness, proposing that she should hear
+how their hunting songs were sung, with a chorus that signalled
+hands to be clasped. So his splendid voice gave the verses, and,
+as the chorus was taken up, he claimed her hands, and, even
+through the easy grip, felt, as he desired, the strength that was
+latent, and the vigour that quickened the very fingertips, as the
+song fired her, and her voice was caught out of her by the
+rhythmic swell, and rang clear on the top of the closing surge.
+
+Afterwards she sang alone. For contrast, or in the pride of
+swaying moods by her voice, she chose a mournful song that drifted
+along in a minor chant, sad as a wind that dirges:
+
+  "Oh, let me go!
+  Around spin wreaths of snow;
+  The dark earth sleeps below.
+
+  "Far up the plain
+  Moans on a voice of pain:
+  'Where shall my babe be lain?'
+
+  "In my white breast
+  Lay the sweet life to rest!
+  Lay, where it can lie best!
+
+  "'Hush! hush its cries!
+  Dense night is on the skies:
+  Two stars are in thine eyes.'
+
+  "Come, babe, away!
+  But lie thou till dawn be grey,
+  Who must be dead by day.
+
+  "This cannot last;
+  But, ere the sickening blast,
+  All sorrow shall be past;
+
+  "And kings shall be
+  Low bending at thy knee,
+  Worshipping life from thee.
+
+  "For men long sore
+  To hope of what's before,--
+  To leave the things of yore.
+
+  "Mine, and not thine,
+  How deep their jewels shine!
+  Peace laps thy head, not mine."
+
+
+Old Trella came tottering from her corner, shaken to additional
+palsy by an aroused memory. She strained her dim eyes towards the
+singer, and then bent her head, that the one ear yet sensible to
+sound might avail of every note. At the close, groping forward,
+she murmured with the high-pitched quaver of old age:
+
+"So she sang, my Thora; my last and brightest. What is she like,
+she whose voice is like my dead Thora's? Are her eyes blue?"
+
+"Blue as the sky."
+
+"So were my Thora's! Is her hair fair, and in plaits to the
+waist?" "Even so," answered White Fell herself, and met the
+advancing hands with her own, and guided them to corroborate her
+words by touch.
+
+"Like my dead Thora's," repeated the old woman; and then her
+trembling hands rested on the fur-clad shoulders, and she bent
+forward and kissed the smooth fair face that White Fell upturned,
+nothing loth, to receive and return the caress.
+
+So Christian saw them as he entered.
+
+He stood a moment. After the starless darkness and the icy night
+air, and the fierce silent two hours' race, his senses reeled on
+sudden entrance into warmth, and light, and the cheery hum of
+voices. A sudden unforeseen anguish assailed him, as now first he
+entertained the possibility of being overmatched by her wiles and
+her daring, if at the approach of pure death she should start up
+at bay transformed to a terrible beast, and achieve a savage glut
+at the last. He looked with horror and pity on the harmless,
+helpless folk, so unwitting of outrage to their comfort and
+security. The dreadful Thing in their midst, that was veiled from
+their knowledge by womanly beauty, was a centre of pleasant
+interest. There, before him, signally impressive, was poor old
+Trella, weakest and feeblest of all, in fond nearness. And a
+moment might bring about the revelation of a monstrous horror--a
+ghastly, deadly danger, set loose and at bay, in a circle of girls
+and women and careless defenceless men: so hideous and terrible a
+thing as might crack the brain, or curdle the heart stone dead.
+
+And he alone of the throng prepared!
+
+[Illustration: White Fell's Escape]
+
+For one breathing space he faltered, no longer than that, while
+over him swept the agony of compunction that yet could not make
+him surrender his purpose.
+
+He alone? Nay, but Tyr also; and he crossed to the dumb sole
+sharer of his knowledge.
+
+So timeless is thought that a few seconds only lay between his
+lifting of the latch and his loosening of Tyr's collar; but in
+those few seconds succeeding his first glance, as lightning-swift
+had been the impulses of others, their motion as quick and sure.
+Sweyn's vigilant eye had darted upon him, and instantly his every
+fibre was alert with hostile instinct; and, half divining, half
+incredulous, of Christian's object in stooping to Tyr, he came
+hastily, wary, wrathful, resolute to oppose the malice of his
+wild-eyed brother.
+
+But beyond Sweyn rose White Fell, blanching white as her furs, and
+with eyes grown fierce and wild. She leapt down the room to the
+door, whirling her long robe closely to her. "Hark!" she panted.
+"The signal horn! Hark, I must go!" as she snatched at the latch
+to be out and away.
+
+For one precious moment Christian had hesitated on the
+half-loosened collar; for, except the womanly form were exchanged
+for the bestial, Tyr's jaws would gnash to rags his honour of
+manhood. Then he heard her voice, and turned--too late.
+
+As she tugged at the door, he sprang across grasping his flask,
+but Sweyn dashed between, and caught him back irresistibly, so
+that a most frantic effort only availed to wrench one arm free.
+With that, on the impulse of sheer despair, he cast at her with
+all his force. The door swung behind her, and the flask flew into
+fragments against it. Then, as Sweyn's grasp slackened, and he met
+the questioning astonishment of surrounding faces, with a hoarse
+inarticulate cry: "God help us all!" he said. "She is a
+Were-Wolf."
+
+Sweyn turned upon him, "Liar, coward!" and his hands gripped his
+brother's throat with deadly force, as though the spoken word
+could be killed so; and as Christian struggled, lifted him clear
+off his feet and flung him crashing backward. So furious was he,
+that, as his brother lay motionless, he stirred him roughly with
+his foot, till their mother came between, crying shame; and yet
+then he stood by, his teeth set, his brows knit, his hands
+clenched, ready to enforce silence again violently, as Christian
+rose staggering and bewildered.
+
+But utter silence and submission were more than he expected, and
+turned his anger into contempt for one so easily cowed and held in
+subjection by mere force. "He is mad!" he said, turning on his
+heel as he spoke, so that he lost his mother's look of pained
+reproach at this sudden free utterance of what was a lurking dread
+within her.
+
+Christian was too spent for the effort of speech. His hard-drawn
+breath laboured in great sobs; his limbs were powerless and
+unstrung in utter relax after hard service. Failure in his
+endeavour induced a stupor of misery and despair. In addition was
+the wretched humiliation of open violence and strife with his
+brother, and the distress of hearing misjudging contempt expressed
+without reserve; for he was aware that Sweyn had turned to allay
+the scared excitement half by imperious mastery, half by
+explanation and argument, that showed painful disregard of
+brotherly consideration. All this unkindness of his twin he
+charged upon the fell Thing who had wrought this their first
+dissension, and, ah! most terrible thought, interposed between
+them so effectually, that Sweyn was wilfully blind and deaf on her
+account, resentful of interference, arbitrary beyond reason.
+
+Dread and perplexity unfathomable darkened upon him; unshared, the
+burden was overwhelming: a foreboding of unspeakable calamity,
+based upon his ghastly discovery, bore down upon him, crushing out
+hope of power to withstand impending fate.
+
+Sweyn the while was observant of his brother, despite the
+continual check of finding, turn and glance when he would,
+Christian's eyes always upon him, with a strange look of helpless
+distress, discomposing enough to the angry aggressor. "Like a
+beaten dog!" he said to himself, rallying contempt to withstand
+compunction. Observation set him wondering on Christian's
+exhausted condition. The heavy labouring breath and the slack
+inert fall of the limbs told surely of unusual and prolonged
+exertion. And then why had close upon two hours' absence been
+followed by open hostility against White Fell?
+
+Suddenly, the fragments of the flask giving a clue, he guessed
+all, and faced about to stare at his brother in amaze. He forgot
+that the motive scheme was against White Fell, demanding derision
+and resentment from him; that was swept out of remembrance by
+astonishment and admiration for the feat of speed and endurance.
+In eagerness to question he inclined to attempt a generous part
+and frankly offer to heal the breach; but Christian's depression
+and sad following gaze provoked him to self-justification by
+recalling the offence of that outrageous utterance against White
+Fell; and the impulse passed. Then other considerations counselled
+silence; and afterwards a humour possessed him to wait and see how
+Christian would find opportunity to proclaim his performance and
+establish the fact, without exciting ridicule on account of the
+absurdity of the errand.
+
+This expectation remained unfulfilled. Christian never attempted
+the proud avowal that would have placed his feat on record to be
+told to the next generation.
+
+That night Sweyn and his mother talked long and late together,
+shaping into certainty the suspicion that Christian's mind had
+lost its balance, and discussing the evident cause. For Sweyn,
+declaring his own love for White Fell, suggested that his
+unfortunate brother, with a like passion, they being twins in
+loves as in birth, had through jealousy and despair turned from
+love to hate, until reason failed at the strain, and a craze
+developed, which the malice and treachery of madness made a
+serious and dangerous force.
+
+So Sweyn theorised, convincing himself as he spoke; convincing
+afterwards others who advanced doubts against White Fell;
+fettering his judgment by his advocacy, and by his staunch defence
+of her hurried flight silencing his own inner consciousness of the
+unaccountability of her action.
+
+But a little time and Sweyn lost his vantage in the shock of a
+fresh horror at the homestead. Trella was no more, and her end a
+mystery. The poor old woman crawled out in a bright gleam to visit
+a bed-ridden gossip living beyond the fir-grove. Under the trees
+she was last seen, halting for her companion, sent back for a
+forgotten present. Quick alarm sprang, calling every man to the
+search. Her stick was found among the brushwood only a few paces
+from the path, but no track or stain, for a gusty wind was sifting
+the snow from the branches, and hid all sign of how she came by
+her death.
+
+So panic-stricken were the farm folk that none dared go singly on
+the search. Known danger could be braced, but not this stealthy
+Death that walked by day invisible, that cut off alike the child
+in his play and the aged woman so near to her quiet grave.
+
+"Rol she kissed; Trella she kissed!" So rang Christian's frantic
+cry again and again, till Sweyn dragged him away and strove to
+keep him apart, albeit in his agony of grief and remorse he
+accused himself wildly as answerable for the tragedy, and gave
+clear proof that the charge of madness was well founded, if
+strange looks and desperate, incoherent words were evidence
+enough.
+
+But thenceforward all Sweyn's reasoning and mastery could not
+uphold White Fell above suspicion. He was not called upon to
+defend her from accusation when Christian had been brought to
+silence again; but he well knew the significance of this fact,
+that her name, formerly uttered freely and often, he never heard
+now: it was huddled away into whispers that he could not catch.
+
+The passing of time did not sweep away the superstitious fears
+that Sweyn despised. He was angry and anxious; eager that White
+Fell should return, and, merely by her bright gracious presence,
+reinstate herself in favour; but doubtful if all his authority and
+example could keep from her notice an altered aspect of welcome;
+and he foresaw clearly that Christian would prove unmanageable,
+and might be capable of some dangerous outbreak.
+
+For a time the twins' variance was marked, on Sweyn's part by an
+air of rigid indifference, on Christian's by heavy downcast
+silence, and a nervous apprehensive observation of his brother.
+Superadded to his remorse and foreboding, Sweyn's displeasure
+weighed upon him intolerably, and the remembrance of their violent
+rupture was a ceaseless misery. The elder brother, self-sufficient
+and insensitive, could little know how deeply his unkindness
+stabbed. A depth and force of affection such as Christian's was
+unknown to him. The loyal subservience that he could not
+appreciate had encouraged him to domineer; this strenuous
+opposition to his reason and will was accounted as furious malice,
+if not sheer insanity.
+
+Christian's surveillance galled him incessantly, and embarrassment
+and danger he foresaw as the outcome. Therefore, that suspicion
+might be lulled, he judged it wise to make overtures for peace.
+Most easily done. A little kindliness, a few evidences of
+consideration, a slight return of the old brotherly imperiousness,
+and Christian replied by a gratefulness and relief that might have
+touched him had he understood all, but instead, increased his
+secret contempt.
+
+So successful was this finesse, that when, late on a day, a
+message summoning Christian to a distance was transmitted by
+Sweyn, no doubt of its genuineness occurred. When, his errand
+proved useless, he set out to return, mistake or misapprehension
+was all that he surmised. Not till he sighted the homestead, lying
+low between the night-grey snow ridges, did vivid recollection of
+the time when he had tracked that horror to the door rouse an
+intense dread, and with it a hardly-defined suspicion.
+
+His grasp tightened on the bear-spear that he carried as a staff;
+every sense was alert, every muscle strung; excitement urged him
+on, caution checked him, and the two governed his long stride,
+swiftly, noiselessly, to the climax he felt was at hand.
+
+As he drew near to the outer gates, a light shadow stirred and
+went, as though the grey of the snow had taken detached motion. A
+darker shadow stayed and faced Christian, striking his life-blood
+chill with utmost despair.
+
+Sweyn stood before him, and surely, the shadow that went was White
+Fell.
+
+They had been together--close. Had she not been in his arms, near
+enough for lips to meet?
+
+There was no moon, but the stars gave light enough to show that
+Sweyn's face was flushed and elate. The flush remained, though the
+expression changed quickly at sight of his brother. How, if
+Christian had seen all, should one of his frenzied outbursts be
+met and managed: by resolution? by indifference? He halted between
+the two, and as a result, he swaggered.
+
+"White Fell?" questioned Christian, hoarse and breathless.
+
+"Yes?"
+
+Sweyn's answer was a query, with an intonation that implied he was
+clearing the ground for action.
+
+From Christian came: "Have you kissed her?" like a bolt direct,
+staggering Sweyn by its sheer prompt temerity.
+
+He flushed yet darker, and yet half-smiled over this earnest of
+success he had won. Had there been really between himself and
+Christian the rivalry that he imagined, his face had enough of the
+insolence of triumph to exasperate jealous rage.
+
+"You dare ask this!"
+
+"Sweyn, O Sweyn, I must know! You have!"
+
+The ring of despair and anguish in his tone angered Sweyn,
+misconstruing it. Jealousy urging to such presumption was
+intolerable.
+
+"Mad fool!" he said, constraining himself no longer. "Win for
+yourself a woman to kiss. Leave mine without question. Such an one
+as I should desire to kiss is such an one as shall never allow a
+kiss to you."
+
+Then Christian fully understood his supposition.
+
+"I--I!" he cried. "White Fell--that deadly Thing! Sweyn, are you
+blind, mad? I would save you from her: a Were-Wolf!"
+
+Sweyn maddened again at the accusation--a dastardly way of
+revenge, as he conceived; and instantly, for the second time, the
+brothers were at strife violently.
+
+But Christian was now too desperate to be scrupulous; for a dim
+glimpse had shot a possibility into his mind, and to be free to
+follow it the striking of his brother was a necessity. Thank God!
+he was armed, and so Sweyn's equal.
+
+[Illustration: The Race]
+
+Facing his assailant with the bear-spear, he struck up his arms,
+and with the butt end hit hard so that he fell. The matchless
+runner leapt away on the instant, to follow a forlorn hope.
+Sweyn, on regaining his feet, was as amazed as angry at this
+unaccountable flight. He knew in his heart that his brother was no
+coward, and that it was unlike him to shrink from an encounter
+because defeat was certain, and cruel humiliation from a
+vindictive victor probable. Of the uselessness of pursuit he was
+well aware: he must abide his chagrin, content to know that his
+time for advantage would come. Since White Fell had parted to the
+right, Christian to the left, the event of a sequent encounter did
+not occur to him. And now Christian, acting on the dim glimpse he
+had had, just as Sweyn turned upon him, of something that moved
+against the sky along the ridge behind the homestead, was staking
+his only hope on a chance, and his own superlative speed. If what
+he saw was really White Fell, he guessed she was bending her steps
+towards the open wastes; and there was just a possibility that, by
+a straight dash, and a desperate perilous leap over a sheer bluff,
+he might yet meet her or head her. And then: he had no further
+thought.
+
+It was past, the quick, fierce race, and the chance of death at
+the leap; and he halted in a hollow to fetch his breath and to
+look: did she come? had she gone?
+
+She came.
+
+She came with a smooth, gliding, noiseless speed, that was neither
+walking nor running; her arms were folded in her furs that were
+drawn tight about her body; the white lappets from her head were
+wrapped and knotted closely beneath her face; her eyes were set on
+a far distance. So she went till the even sway of her going was
+startled to a pause by Christian.
+
+"Fell!"
+
+She drew a quick, sharp breath at the sound of her name thus
+mutilated, and faced Sweyn's brother. Her eyes glittered; her
+upper lip was lifted, and shewed the teeth. The half of her name,
+impressed with an ominous sense as uttered by him, warned her of
+the aspect of a deadly foe. Yet she cast loose her robes till they
+trailed ample, and spoke as a mild woman.
+
+"What would you?"
+
+Then Christian answered with his solemn dreadful accusation:
+
+"You kissed Rol--and Rol is dead! You kissed Trella: she is dead!
+You have kissed Sweyn, my brother; but he shall not die!"
+
+He added: "You may live till midnight."
+
+The edge of the teeth and the glitter of the eyes stayed a moment,
+and her right hand also slid down to the axe haft. Then, without a
+word, she swerved from him, and sprang out and away swiftly over
+the snow.
+
+And Christian sprang out and away, and followed her swiftly over
+the snow, keeping behind, but half-a-stride's length from her
+side.
+
+So they went running together, silent, towards the vast wastes of
+snow, where no living thing but they two moved under the stars of
+night.
+
+Never before had Christian so rejoiced in his powers. The gift of
+speed, and the training of use and endurance were priceless to him
+now. Though midnight was hours away, he was confident that, go
+where that Fell Thing would, hasten as she would, she could not
+outstrip him nor escape from him. Then, when came the time for
+transformation, when the woman's form made no longer a shield
+against a man's hand, he could slay or be slain to save Sweyn. He
+had struck his dear brother in dire extremity, but he could not,
+though reason urged, strike a woman.
+
+For one mile, for two miles they ran: White Fell ever foremost,
+Christian ever at equal distance from her side, so near that, now
+and again, her out-flying furs touched him. She spoke no word; nor
+he. She never turned her head to look at him, nor swerved to evade
+him; but, with set face looking forward, sped straight on, over
+rough, over smooth, aware of his nearness by the regular beat of
+his feet, and the sound of his breath behind.
+
+In a while she quickened her pace. From the first, Christian had
+judged of her speed as admirable, yet with exulting security in
+his own excelling and enduring whatever her efforts. But, when the
+pace increased, he found himself put to the test as never had he
+been before in any race. Her feet, indeed, flew faster than his;
+it was only by his length of stride that he kept his place at her
+side. But his heart was high and resolute, and he did not fear
+failure yet.
+
+So the desperate race flew on. Their feet struck up the powdery
+snow, their breath smoked into the sharp clear air, and they were
+gone before the air was cleared of snow and vapour. Now and then
+Christian glanced up to judge, by the rising of the stars, of the
+coming of midnight. So long--so long!
+
+White Fell held on without slack. She, it was evident, with
+confidence in her speed proving matchless, as resolute to outrun
+her pursuer as he to endure till midnight and fulfil his purpose.
+And Christian held on, still self-assured. He could not fail; he
+would not fail. To avenge Rol and Trella was motive enough for him
+to do what man could do; but for Sweyn more. She had kissed Sweyn,
+but he should not die too: with Sweyn to save he could not fail.
+
+Never before was such a race as this; no, not when in old Greece
+man and maid raced together with two fates at stake; for the hard
+running was sustained unabated, while star after star rose and
+went wheeling up towards midnight, for one hour, for two hours.
+
+Then Christian saw and heard what shot him through with fear.
+Where a fringe of trees hung round a slope he saw something dark
+moving, and heard a yelp, followed by a full horrid cry, and the
+dark spread out upon the snow, a pack of wolves in pursuit.
+
+Of the beasts alone he had little cause for fear; at the pace he
+held he could distance them, four-footed though they were. But of
+White Fell's wiles he had infinite apprehension, for how might she
+not avail herself of the savage jaws of these wolves, akin as they
+were to half her nature. She vouchsafed to them nor look nor sign;
+but Christian, on an impulse to assure himself that she should not
+escape him, caught and held the back-flung edge of her furs,
+running still.
+
+She turned like a flash with a beastly snarl, teeth and eyes
+gleaming again. Her axe shone, on the upstroke, on the downstroke,
+as she hacked at his hand. She had lopped it off at the wrist, but
+that he parried with the bear-spear. Even then, she shore through
+the shaft and shattered the bones of the hand at the same blow, so
+that he loosed perforce.
+
+Then again they raced on as before, Christian not losing a pace,
+though his left hand swung useless, bleeding and broken.
+
+The snarl, indubitable, though modified from a woman's organs, the
+vicious fury revealed in teeth and eyes, the sharp arrogant pain
+of her maiming blow, caught away Christian's heed of the beasts
+behind, by striking into him close vivid realisation of the
+infinitely greater danger that ran before him in that deadly
+Thing.
+
+When he bethought him to look behind, lo! the pack had but reached
+their tracks, and instantly slunk aside, cowed; the yell of
+pursuit changing to yelps and whines. So abhorrent was that fell
+creature to beast as to man.
+
+She had drawn her furs more closely to her, disposing them so
+that, instead of flying loose to her heels, no drapery hung lower
+than her knees, and this without a check to her wonderful speed,
+nor embarrassment by the cumbering of the folds. She held her head
+as before; her lips were firmly set, only the tense nostrils gave
+her breath; not a sign of distress witnessed to the long
+sustaining of that terrible speed.
+
+But on Christian by now the strain was telling palpably. His head
+weighed heavy, and his breath came labouring in great sobs; the
+bear spear would have been a burden now. His heart was beating
+like a hammer, but such a dulness oppressed his brain, that it was
+only by degrees he could realise his helpless state; wounded and
+weaponless, chasing that terrible Thing, that was a fierce,
+desperate, axe-armed woman, except she should assume the beast
+with fangs yet more formidable.
+
+And still the far slow stars went lingering nearly an hour from
+midnight.
+
+So far was his brain astray that an impression took him that she
+was fleeing from the midnight stars, whose gain was by such slow
+degrees that a time equalling days and days had gone in the race
+round the northern circle of the world, and days and days as long
+might last before the end--except she slackened, or except he
+failed.
+
+But he would not fail yet.
+
+How long had he been praying so? He had started with a
+self-confidence and reliance that had felt no need for that aid;
+and now it seemed the only means by which to restrain his heart
+from swelling beyond the compass of his body, by which to cherish
+his brain from dwindling and shrivelling quite away. Some
+sharp-toothed creature kept tearing and dragging on his maimed
+left hand; he never could see it, he could not shake it off; but
+he prayed it off at times.
+
+The clear stars before him took to shuddering, and he knew why:
+they shuddered at sight of what was behind him. He had never
+divined before that strange things hid themselves from men under
+pretence of being snow-clad mounds or swaying trees; but now they
+came slipping out from their harmless covers to follow him, and
+mock at his impotence to make a kindred Thing resolve to truer
+form. He knew the air behind him was thronged; he heard the hum of
+innumerable murmurings together; but his eyes could never catch
+them, they were too swift and nimble. Yet he knew they were there,
+because, on a backward glance, he saw the snow mounds surge as
+they grovelled flatlings out of sight; he saw the trees reel as
+they screwed themselves rigid past recognition among the boughs.
+
+And after such glance the stars for awhile returned to
+steadfastness, and an infinite stretch of silence froze upon the
+chill grey world, only deranged by the swift even beat of the
+flying feet, and his own--slower from the longer stride, and the
+sound of his breath. And for some clear moments he knew that his
+only concern was, to sustain his speed regardless of pain and
+distress, to deny with every nerve he had her power to outstrip
+him or to widen the space between them, till the stars crept up to
+midnight. Then out again would come that crowd invisible, humming
+and hustling behind, dense and dark enough, he knew, to blot out
+the stars at his back, yet ever skipping and jerking from his
+sight.
+
+A hideous check came to the race. White Fell swirled about and
+leapt to the right, and Christian, unprepared for so prompt a
+lurch, found close at his feet a deep pit yawning, and his own
+impetus past control. But he snatched at her as he bore past,
+clasping her right arm with his one whole hand, and the two swung
+together upon the brink.
+
+And her straining away in self preservation was vigorous enough to
+counter-balance his headlong impulse, and brought them reeling
+together to safety.
+
+Then, before he was verily sure that they were not to perish so,
+crashing down, he saw her gnashing in wild pale fury as she
+wrenched to be free; and since her right hand was in his grasp,
+used her axe left-handed, striking back at him.
+
+The blow was effectual enough even so; his right arm dropped
+powerless, gashed, and with the lesser bone broken, that jarred
+with horrid pain when he let it swing as he leaped out again, and
+ran to recover the few feet she had gained from his pause at the
+shock.
+
+The near escape and this new quick pain made again every faculty
+alive and intense. He knew that what he followed was most surely
+Death animate: wounded and helpless, he was utterly at her mercy
+if so she should realise and take action. Hopeless to avenge,
+hopeless to save, his very despair for Sweyn swept him on to
+follow, and follow, and precede the kiss-doomed to death. Could he
+yet fail to hunt that Thing past midnight, out of the womanly form
+alluring and treacherous, into lasting restraint of the bestial,
+which was the last shred of hope left from the confident purpose
+of the outset?
+
+"Sweyn, Sweyn, O Sweyn!" He thought he was praying, though his
+heart wrung out nothing but this: "Sweyn, Sweyn, O Sweyn!"
+
+The last hour from midnight had lost half its quarters, and the
+stars went lifting up the great minutes; and again his greatening
+heart, and his shrinking brain, and the sickening agony that swung
+at either side, conspired to appal the will that had only seeming
+empire over his feet.
+
+Now White Fell's body was so closely enveloped that not a lap nor
+an edge flew free. She stretched forward strangely aslant, leaning
+from the upright poise of a runner. She cleared the ground at
+times by long bounds, gaining an increase of speed that Christian
+agonised to equal.
+
+Because the stars pointed that the end was nearing, the black
+brood came behind again, and followed, noising. Ah! if they could
+but be kept quiet and still, nor slip their usual harmless masks
+to encourage with their interest the last speed of their most
+deadly congener. What shape had they? Should he ever know? If it
+were not that he was bound to compel the fell Thing that ran
+before him into her truer form, he might face about and follow
+them. No--no--not so; if he might do anything but what he
+did--race, race, and racing bear this agony, he would just stand
+still and die, to be quit of the pain of breathing.
+
+He grew bewildered, uncertain of his own identity, doubting of his
+own true form. He could not be really a man, no more than that
+running Thing was really a woman; his real form was only hidden
+under embodiment of a man, but what it was he did not know. And
+Sweyn's real form he did not know. Sweyn lay fallen at his feet,
+where he had struck him down--his own brother--he: he stumbled
+over him, and had to overleap him and race harder because she who
+had kissed Sweyn leapt so fast. "Sweyn, Sweyn, O Sweyn!"
+
+Why did the stars stop to shudder? Midnight else had surely come!
+
+The leaning, leaping Thing looked back at him with a wild, fierce
+look, and laughed in savage scorn and triumph. He saw in a flash
+why, for within a time measurable by seconds she would have
+escaped him utterly. As the land lay, a slope of ice sunk on the
+one hand; on the other hand a steep rose, shouldering forwards;
+between the two was space for a foot to be planted, but none for a
+body to stand; yet a juniper bough, thrusting out, gave a handhold
+secure enough for one with a resolute grasp to swing past the
+perilous place, and pass on safe.
+
+Though the first seconds of the last moment were going, she dared
+to flash back a wicked look, and laugh at the pursuer who was
+impotent to grasp.
+
+[Illustration: The Finish]
+
+The crisis struck convulsive life into his last supreme effort;
+his will surged up indomitable, his speed proved matchless yet. He
+leapt with a rush, passed her before her laugh had time to go out,
+and turned short, barring the way, and braced to withstand her.
+
+She came hurling desperate, with a feint to the right hand, and
+then launched herself upon him with a spring like a wild beast
+when it leaps to kill. And he, with one strong arm and a hand that
+could not hold, with one strong hand and an arm that could not
+guide and sustain, he caught and held her even so. And they fell
+together. And because he felt his whole arm slipping, and his
+whole hand loosing, to slack the dreadful agony of the wrenched
+bone above, he caught and held with his teeth the tunic at her
+knee, as she struggled up and wrung off his hands to overleap him
+victorious.
+
+Like lightning she snatched her axe, and struck him on the neck,
+deep--once, twice--his life-blood gushed out, staining her feet.
+
+The stars touched midnight.
+
+The death scream he heard was not his, for his set teeth had
+hardly yet relaxed when it rang out; and the dreadful cry began
+with a woman's shriek, and changed and ended as the yell of a
+beast. And before the final blank overtook his dying eyes, he saw
+that She gave place to It; he saw more, that Life gave place to
+Death--causelessly, incomprehensibly.
+
+For he did not presume that no holy water could be more holy, more
+potent to destroy an evil thing than the life-blood of a pure
+heart poured out for another in free willing devotion.
+
+His own true hidden reality that he had desired to know grew
+palpable, recognisable. It seemed to him just this: a great glad
+abounding hope that he had saved his brother; too expansive to be
+contained by the limited form of a sole man, it yearned for a new
+embodiment infinite as the stars.
+
+What did it matter to that true reality that the man's brain
+shrank, shrank, till it was nothing; that the man's body could not
+retain the huge pain of his heart, and heaved it out through the
+red exit riven at the neck; that the black noise came again
+hurtling from behind, reinforced by that dissolved shape, and
+blotted out for ever the man's sight, hearing, sense.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In the early grey of day Sweyn chanced upon the footprints of a
+man--of a runner, as he saw by the shifted snow; and the direction
+they had taken aroused curiosity, since a little farther their
+line must be crossed by the edge of a sheer height. He turned to
+trace them. And so doing, the length of the stride struck his
+attention--a stride long as his own if he ran. He knew he was
+following Christian.
+
+In his anger he had hardened himself to be indifferent to the
+night-long absence of his brother; but now, seeing where the
+footsteps went, he was seized with compunction and dread. He had
+failed to give thought and care to his poor frantic twin, who
+might--was it possible?--have rushed to a frantic death.
+
+His heart stood still when he came to the place where the leap had
+been taken. A piled edge of snow had fallen too, and nothing but
+snow lay below when he peered. Along the upper edge he ran for a
+furlong, till he came to a dip where he could slip and climb down,
+and then back again on the lower level to the pile of fallen snow.
+There he saw that the vigorous running had started afresh.
+
+He stood pondering; vexed that any man should have taken that leap
+where he had not ventured to follow; vexed that he had been
+beguiled to such painful emotions; guessing vainly at Christian's
+object in this mad freak. He began sauntering along, half
+unconsciously following his brother's track; and so in a while he
+came to the place where the footprints were doubled.
+
+Small prints were these others, small as a woman's, though the
+pace from one to another was longer than that which the skirts of
+women allow.
+
+Did not White Fell tread so?
+
+A dreadful guess appalled him, so dreadful that he recoiled from
+belief. Yet his face grew ashy white, and he gasped to fetch back
+motion to his checked heart. Unbelievable? Closer attention showed
+how the smaller footfall had altered for greater speed, striking
+into the snow with a deeper onset and a lighter pressure on the
+heels. Unbelievable? Could any woman but White Fell run so? Could
+any man but Christian run so? The guess became a certainty. He was
+following where alone in the dark night White Fell had fled from
+Christian pursuing.
+
+Such villainy set heart and brain on fire with rage and
+indignation: such villainy in his own brother, till lately
+love-worthy, praiseworthy, though a fool for meekness. He would
+kill Christian; had he lives many as the footprints he had trodden,
+vengeance should demand them all. In a tempest of murderous hate
+he followed on in haste, for the track was plain enough, starting
+with such a burst of speed as could not be maintained, but brought
+him back soon to a plod for the spent, sobbing breath to be
+regulated. He cursed Christian aloud and called White Fell's name
+on high in a frenzied expense of passion. His grief itself was a
+rage, being such an intolerable anguish of pity and shame at the
+thought of his love, White Fell, who had parted from his kiss free
+and radiant, to be hounded straightway by his brother mad with
+jealousy, fleeing for more than life while her lover was housed at
+his ease. If he had but known, he raved, in impotent rebellion at
+the cruelty of events, if he had but known that his strength and
+love might have availed in her defence; now the only service to
+her that he could render was to kill Christian.
+
+As a woman he knew she was matchless in speed, matchless in
+strength; but Christian was matchless in speed among men, nor
+easily to be matched in strength. Brave and swift and strong
+though she were, what chance had she against a man of his strength
+and inches, frantic, too, and intent on horrid revenge against his
+brother, his successful rival?
+
+Mile after mile he followed with a bursting heart; more piteous,
+more tragic, seemed the case at this evidence of White Fell's
+splendid supremacy, holding her own so long against Christian's
+famous speed. So long, so long that his love and admiration grew
+more and more boundless, and his grief and indignation therewith
+also. Whenever the track lay clear he ran, with such reckless
+prodigality of strength, that it soon was spent, and he dragged on
+heavily, till, sometimes on the ice of a mere, sometimes on a
+wind-swept place, all signs were lost; but, so undeviating had
+been their line that a course straight on, and then short questing
+to either hand, recovered them again.
+
+Hour after hour had gone by through more than half that winter
+day, before ever he came to the place where the trampled snow
+showed that a scurry of feet had come--and gone! Wolves' feet--and
+gone most amazingly! Only a little beyond he came to the lopped
+point of Christian's bear-spear; farther on he would see where the
+remnant of the useless shaft had been dropped. The snow here was
+dashed with blood, and the footsteps of the two had fallen closer
+together. Some hoarse sound of exultation came from him that might
+have been a laugh had breath sufficed. "O White Fell, my poor,
+brave love! Well struck!" he groaned, torn by his pity and great
+admiration, as he guessed surely how she had turned and dealt a
+blow.
+
+The sight of the blood inflamed him as it might a beast that
+ravens. He grew mad with a desire to have Christian by the throat
+once again, not to loose this time till he had crushed out his
+life, or beat out his life, or stabbed out his life; or all these,
+and torn him piecemeal likewise: and ah! then, not till then,
+bleed his heart with weeping, like a child, like a girl, over the
+piteous fate of his poor lost love.
+
+On--on--on--through the aching time, toiling and straining in the
+track of those two superb runners, aware of the marvel of their
+endurance, but unaware of the marvel of their speed, that, in the
+three hours before midnight had overpassed all that vast distance
+that he could only traverse from twilight to twilight. For clear
+daylight was passing when he came to the edge of an old marl-pit,
+and saw how the two who had gone before had stamped and trampled
+together in desperate peril on the verge. And here fresh blood
+stains spoke to him of a valiant defence against his infamous
+brother; and he followed where the blood had dripped till the cold
+had staunched its flow, taking a savage gratification from this
+evidence that Christian had been gashed deeply, maddening afresh
+with desire to do likewise more excellently, and so slake his
+murderous hate. And he began to know that through all his despair
+he had entertained a germ of hope, that grew apace, rained upon by
+his brother's blood.
+
+He strove on as best he might, wrung now by an access of hope, now
+of despair, in agony to reach the end, however terrible, sick with
+the aching of the toiled miles that deferred it.
+
+And the light went lingering out of the sky, giving place to
+uncertain stars.
+
+He came to the finish.
+
+Two bodies lay in a narrow place. Christian's was one, but the
+other beyond not White Fell's. There where the footsteps ended lay
+a great white wolf.
+
+At the sight Sweyn's strength was blasted; body and soul he was
+struck down grovelling.
+
+The stars had grown sure and intense before he stirred from where
+he had dropped prone. Very feebly he crawled to his dead brother,
+and laid his hands upon him, and crouched so, afraid to look or
+stir farther.
+
+Cold, stiff, hours dead. Yet the dead body was his only shelter
+and stay in that most dreadful hour. His soul, stripped bare of
+all sceptic comfort, cowered, shivering, naked, abject; and the
+living clung to the dead out of piteous need for grace from the
+soul that had passed away.
+
+He rose to his knees, lifting the body. Christian had fallen face
+forward in the snow, with his arms flung up and wide, and so had
+the frost made him rigid: strange, ghastly, unyielding to Sweyn's
+lifting, so that he laid him down again and crouched above, with
+his arms fast round him, and a low heart-wrung groan.
+
+[Illustration: Sweyn's Finding]
+
+When at last he found force to raise his brother's body and gather
+it in his arms, tight clasped to his breast, he tried to face the
+Thing that lay beyond. The sight set his limbs in a palsy with
+horror and dread. His senses had failed and fainted in utter
+cowardice, but for the strength that came from holding dead
+Christian in his arms, enabling him to compel his eyes to endure
+the sight, and take into the brain the complete aspect of the
+Thing. No wound, only blood stains on the feet. The great grim
+jaws had a savage grin, though dead-stiff. And his kiss: he could
+bear it no longer, and turned away, nor ever looked again.
+
+And the dead man in his arms, knowing the full horror, had
+followed and faced it for his sake; had suffered agony and death
+for his sake; in the neck was the deep death gash, one arm and
+both hands were dark with frozen blood, for his sake! Dead he knew
+him, as in life he had not known him, to give the right meed of
+love and worship. Because the outward man lacked perfection and
+strength equal to his, he had taken the love and worship of that
+great pure heart as his due; he, so unworthy in the inner reality,
+so mean, so despicable, callous, and contemptuous towards the
+brother who had laid down his life to save him. He longed for
+utter annihilation, that so he might lose the agony of knowing
+himself so unworthy such perfect love. The frozen calm of death on
+the face appalled him. He dared not touch it with lips that had
+cursed so lately, with lips fouled by kiss of the horror that had
+been death.
+
+He struggled to his feet, still clasping Christian. The dead man
+stood upright within his arm, frozen rigid. The eyes were not
+quite closed; the head had stiffened, bowed slightly to one side;
+the arms stayed straight and wide. It was the figure of one
+crucified, the blood-stained hands also conforming.
+
+So living and dead went back along the track that one had passed
+in the deepest passion of love, and one in the deepest passion of
+hate. All that night Sweyn toiled through the snow, bearing the
+weight of dead Christian, treading back along the steps he before
+had trodden, when he was wronging with vilest thoughts, and
+cursing with murderous hatred, the brother who all the while lay
+dead for his sake.
+
+Cold, silence, darkness encompassed the strong man bowed with the
+dolorous burden; and yet he knew surely that that night he entered
+hell, and trod hell-fire along the homeward road, and endured
+through it only because Christian was with him. And he knew surely
+that to him Christian had been as Christ, and had suffered and
+died to save him from his sins.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13131 ***
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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Were-Wolf, by Clemence Housman</title>
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+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13131 ***</div>
+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Were-Wolf, by Clemence Housman,
+Illustrated by Laurence Housman</h1>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<hr class="full" />
+<br />
+<br />
+<h2>THE WERE-WOLF</h2>
+<h3>by</h3>
+<h2>Clemence Housman</h2>
+<h3>Illustrations by Laurence Housman</h3>
+<h4>1896</h4>
+<hr width="38%"/>
+<div class="figure"><a name="front.png" href="images/front.png"><img
+ src="images/front-tn.png" alt="Illustration: Holy Water"/></a></div>
+<hr width="38%"/>
+<div class="figure"><img src="images/initial.gif"
+ alt="THE WERE-WOLF / BY CLEMENCE HOUSMAN / WITH SIX ILLUSTRATIONS / BY LAURENCE HOUSMAN // LONDON: JOHN LANE / AT THE BODLEY HEAD / CHICAGO: WAY AND / WILLIAMS 1896"/></div>
+<hr width="38%"/>
+<p class="front"><big>TO THE DEAR MEMORY OF<br/>
+E.W.P.
+</big></p>
+<p class="front">"YOU WILL THINK OF ME SOMETIMES,<br/>
+MY DEAR?"
+</p>
+<hr width="38%"/>
+<h2>LIST OF PLATES</h2>
+<div style="margin-left: 38%; margin-right: 38%;">
+<p class="straight"><a href="#front.png">Holy Water</a><br/>
+<a href="#rolwship.png">Rol's Worship</a><br/>
+<a href="#wfescape.png">White Fell's Escape</a><br/>
+<a href="#race.png">The Race</a><br/>
+<a href="#finish.png">The Finish</a><br/>
+<a href="#finding.png">Sweyn's Finding</a><br/>
+</p>
+</div>
+<hr width="38%"/>
+<h1>THE WERE-WOLF</h1>
+<p>
+The great farm hall was ablaze with the fire-light, and noisy with
+laughter and talk and many-sounding work. None could be idle but
+the very young and the very old: little Rol, who was hugging a
+puppy, and old Trella, whose palsied hand fumbled over her
+knitting. The early evening had closed in, and the farm-servants,
+come from their outdoor work, had assembled in the ample hall,
+which gave space for a score or more of workers. Several of the
+men were engaged in carving, and to these were yielded the best
+place and light; others made or repaired fishing-tackle and
+harness, and a great seine net occupied three pairs of hands. Of
+the women most were sorting and mixing eider feather and chopping
+straw to add to it. Looms were there, though not in present use,
+but three wheels whirred emulously, and the finest and swiftest
+thread of the three ran between the fingers of the house-mistress.
+Near her were some children, busy too, plaiting wicks for candles
+and lamps. Each group of workers had a lamp in its centre, and
+those farthest from the fire had live heat from two braziers
+filled with glowing wood embers, replenished now and again from
+the generous hearth. But the flicker of the great fire was
+manifest to remotest corners, and prevailed beyond the limits of
+the weaker lights.
+</p>
+<p>Little Rol grew tired of his puppy, dropped it incontinently, and
+made an onslaught on Tyr, the old wolf-hound, who basked dozing,
+whimpering and twitching in his hunting dreams. Prone went Rol
+beside Tyr, his young arms round the shaggy neck, his curls
+against the black jowl. Tyr gave a perfunctory lick, and stretched
+with a sleepy sigh. Rol growled and rolled and shoved invitingly,
+but could only gain from the old dog placid toleration and a
+half-observant blink. "Take that then!" said Rol, indignant at this
+ignoring of his advances, and sent the puppy sprawling against the
+dignity that disdained him as playmate. The dog took no notice,
+and the child wandered off to find amusement elsewhere.
+</p>
+<p>The baskets of white eider feathers caught his eye far off in a
+distant corner. He slipped under the table, and crept along on
+all-fours, the ordinary common-place custom of walking down a room
+upright not being to his fancy. When close to the women he lay
+still for a moment watching, with his elbows on the floor and his
+chin in his palms. One of the women seeing him nodded and smiled,
+and presently he crept out behind her skirts and passed, hardly
+noticed, from one to another, till he found opportunity to possess
+himself of a large handful of feathers. With these he traversed
+the length of the room, under the table again, and emerged near
+the spinners. At the feet of the youngest he curled himself round,
+sheltered by her knees from the observation of the others, and
+disarmed her of interference by secretly displaying his handful
+with a confiding smile. A dubious nod satisfied him, and presently
+he started on the play he had devised. He took a tuft of the white
+down, and gently shook it free of his fingers close to the whirl
+of the wheel. The wind of the swift motion took it, spun it round
+and round in widening circles, till it floated above like a slow
+white moth. Little Rol's eyes danced, and the row of his small
+teeth shone in a silent laugh of delight. Another and another of
+the white tufts was sent whirling round like a winged thing in a
+spider's web, and floating clear at last. Presently the handful
+failed.
+</p>
+<p>Rol sprawled forward to survey the room, and contemplate another
+journey under the table. His shoulder, thrusting forward, checked
+the wheel for an instant; he shifted hastily. The wheel flew on
+with a jerk, and the thread snapped. "Naughty Rol!" said the girl.
+The swiftest wheel stopped also, and the house-mistress, Rol's
+aunt, leaned forward, and sighting the low curly head, gave a
+warning against mischief, and sent him off to old Trella's corner.
+</p>
+<p>Rol obeyed, and after a discreet period of obedience, sidled out
+again down the length of the room farthest from his aunt's eye. As
+he slipped in among the men, they looked up to see that their
+tools might be, as far as possible, out of reach of Rol's hands,
+and close to their own. Nevertheless, before long he managed to
+secure a fine chisel and take off its point on the leg of the
+table. The carver's strong objections to this disconcerted Rol,
+who for five minutes thereafter effaced himself under the table.
+</p>
+<p>During this seclusion he contemplated the many pairs of legs that
+surrounded him, and almost shut out the light of the fire. How
+very odd some of the legs were: some were curved where they should
+be straight, some were straight where they should be curved, and,
+as Rol said to himself, "they all seemed screwed on differently."
+Some were tucked away modestly under the benches, others were
+thrust far out under the table, encroaching on Rol's own
+particular domain. He stretched out his own short legs and
+regarded them critically, and, after comparison, favourably. Why
+were not all legs made like his, or like <i>his</i>?
+</p>
+<p>These legs approved by Rol were a little apart from the rest. He
+crawled opposite and again made comparison. His face grew quite
+solemn as he thought of the innumerable days to come before his
+legs could be as long and strong. He hoped they would be just like
+those, his models, as straight as to bone, as curved as to muscle.
+</p>
+<p>A few moments later Sweyn of the long legs felt a small hand
+caressing his foot, and looking down, met the upturned eyes of his
+little cousin Rol. Lying on his back, still softly patting and
+stroking the young man's foot, the child was quiet and happy for a
+good while. He watched the movement of the strong deft hands, and
+the shifting of the bright tools. Now and then, minute chips of
+wood, puffed off by Sweyn, fell down upon his face. At last he
+raised himself, very gently, lest a jog should wake impatience in
+the carver, and crossing his own legs round Sweyn's ankle,
+clasping with his arms too, laid his head against the knee. Such
+act is evidence of a child's most wonderful hero-worship. Quite
+content was Rol, and more than content when Sweyn paused a minute
+to joke, and pat his head and pull his curls. Quiet he remained,
+as long as quiescence is possible to limbs young as his. Sweyn
+forgot he was near, hardly noticed when his leg was gently
+released, and never saw the stealthy abstraction of one of his
+tools.
+</p>
+<div class="figure"><a name="rolwship.png" href="images/rolwship.png"><img
+ src="images/rolwship-tn.png" alt="Illustration: Rol's Worship"/></a></div>
+<p>
+Ten minutes thereafter was a lamentable wail from low on the
+floor, rising to the full pitch of Rol's healthy lungs; for his
+hand was gashed across, and the copious bleeding terrified him.
+Then was there soothing and comforting, washing and binding, and a
+modicum of scolding, till the loud outcry sank into occasional
+sobs, and the child, tear-stained and subdued, was returned to the
+chimney-corner settle, where Trella nodded.
+</p>
+<p>In the reaction after pain and fright, Rol found that the quiet of
+that fire-lit corner was to his mind. Tyr, too, disdained him no
+longer, but, roused by his sobs, showed all the concern and
+sympathy that a dog can by licking and wistful watching. A little
+shame weighed also upon his spirits. He wished he had not cried
+quite so much. He remembered how once Sweyn had come home with his
+arm torn down from the shoulder, and a dead bear; and how he had
+never winced nor said a word, though his lips turned white with
+pain. Poor little Rol gave another sighing sob over his own
+faint-hearted shortcomings.
+</p>
+<p>The light and motion of the great fire began to tell strange
+stories to the child, and the wind in the chimney roared a
+corroborative note now and then. The great black mouth of the
+chimney, impending high over the hearth, received as into a
+mysterious gulf murky coils of smoke and brightness of aspiring
+sparks; and beyond, in the high darkness, were muttering and
+wailing and strange doings, so that sometimes the smoke rushed
+back in panic, and curled out and up to the roof, and condensed
+itself to invisibility among the rafters. And then the wind would
+rage after its lost prey, and rush round the house, rattling and
+shrieking at window and door.
+</p>
+<p>In a lull, after one such loud gust, Rol lifted his head in
+surprise and listened. A lull had also come on the babel of talk,
+and thus could be heard with strange distinctness a sound outside
+the door&#8212;the sound of a child's voice, a child's hands. "Open,
+open; let me in!" piped the little voice from low down, lower than
+the handle, and the latch rattled as though a tiptoe child reached
+up to it, and soft small knocks were struck. One near the door
+sprang up and opened it. "No one is here," he said. Tyr lifted his
+head and gave utterance to a howl, loud, prolonged, most dismal.
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn, not able to believe that his ears had deceived him, got up
+and went to the door. It was a dark night; the clouds were heavy
+with snow, that had fallen fitfully when the wind lulled.
+Untrodden snow lay up to the porch; there was no sight nor sound
+of any human being. Sweyn strained his eyes far and near, only to
+see dark sky, pure snow, and a line of black fir trees on a hill
+brow, bowing down before the wind. "It must have been the wind,"
+he said, and closed the door.
+</p>
+<p>Many faces looked scared. The sound of a child's voice had been so
+distinct&#8212;and the words "Open, open; let me in!" The wind might
+creak the wood, or rattle the latch, but could not speak with a
+child's voice, nor knock with the soft plain blows that a plump
+fist gives. And the strange unusual howl of the wolf-hound was an
+omen to be feared, be the rest what it might. Strange things were
+said by one and another, till the rebuke of the house-mistress
+quelled them into far-off whispers. For a time after there was
+uneasiness, constraint, and silence; then the chill fear thawed by
+degrees, and the babble of talk flowed on again.
+</p>
+<p>Yet half-an-hour later a very slight noise outside the door
+sufficed to arrest every hand, every tongue. Every head was
+raised, every eye fixed in one direction. "It is Christian; he is
+late," said Sweyn.
+</p>
+<p>No, no; this is a feeble shuffle, not a young man's tread. With
+the sound of uncertain feet came the hard tap-tap of a stick
+against the door, and the high-pitched voice of eld, "Open, open;
+let me in!" Again Tyr flung up his head in a long doleful howl.
+</p>
+<p>Before the echo of the tapping stick and the high voice had fairly
+died away, Sweyn had sprung across to the door and flung it wide.
+"No one again," he said in a steady voice, though his eyes looked
+startled as he stared out. He saw the lonely expanse of snow, the
+clouds swagging low, and between the two the line of dark
+fir-trees bowing in the wind. He closed the door without a word of
+comment, and re-crossed the room.
+</p>
+<p>A score of blanched faces were turned to him as though he must be
+solver of the enigma. He could not be unconscious of this mute
+eye-questioning, and it disturbed his resolute air of composure.
+He hesitated, glanced towards his mother, the house-mistress, then
+back at the frightened folk, and gravely, before them all, made
+the sign of the cross. There was a flutter of hands as the sign
+was repeated by all, and the dead silence was stirred as by a huge
+sigh, for the held breath of many was freed as though the sign
+gave magic relief.
+</p>
+<p>Even the house-mistress was perturbed. She left her wheel and
+crossed the room to her son, and spoke with him for a moment in a
+low tone that none could overhear. But a moment later her voice
+was high-pitched and loud, so that all might benefit by her rebuke
+of the "heathen chatter" of one of the girls. Perhaps she essayed
+to silence thus her own misgivings and forebodings.
+</p>
+<p>No other voice dared speak now with its natural fulness. Low tones
+made intermittent murmurs, and now and then silence drifted over
+the whole room. The handling of tools was as noiseless as might
+be, and suspended on the instant if the door rattled in a gust of
+wind. After a time Sweyn left his work, joined the group nearest
+the door, and loitered there on the pretence of giving advice and
+help to the unskilful.
+</p>
+<p>A man's tread was heard outside in the porch. "Christian!" said
+Sweyn and his mother simultaneously, he confidently, she
+authoritatively, to set the checked wheels going again. But Tyr
+flung up his head with an appalling howl.
+</p>
+<p>"Open, open; let me in!"
+</p>
+<p>It was a man's voice, and the door shook and rattled as a man's
+strength beat against it. Sweyn could feel the planks quivering,
+as on the instant his hand was upon the door, flinging it open, to
+face the blank porch, and beyond only snow and sky, and firs
+aslant in the wind.
+</p>
+<p>He stood for a long minute with the open door in his hand. The
+bitter wind swept in with its icy chill, but a deadlier chill of
+fear came swifter, and seemed to freeze the beating of hearts.
+Sweyn stepped back to snatch up a great bearskin cloak.
+</p>
+<p>"Sweyn, where are you going?"
+</p>
+<p>"No farther than the porch, mother," and he stepped out and closed
+the door.
+</p>
+<p>He wrapped himself in the heavy fur, and leaning against the most
+sheltered wall of the porch, steeled his nerves to face the devil
+and all his works. No sound of voices came from within; the most
+distinct sound was the crackle and roar of the fire.
+</p>
+<p>It was bitterly cold. His feet grew numb, but he forbore stamping
+them into warmth lest the sound should strike panic within; nor
+would he leave the porch, nor print a foot-mark on the untrodden
+white that declared so absolutely how no human voices and hands
+could have approached the door since snow fell two hours or more
+ago. "When the wind drops there will be more snow," thought Sweyn.
+</p>
+<p>For the best part of an hour he kept his watch, and saw no living
+thing&#8212;heard no unwonted sound. "I will freeze here no longer," he
+muttered, and re-entered.
+</p>
+<p>One woman gave a half-suppressed scream as his hand was laid on
+the latch, and then a gasp of relief as he came in. No one
+questioned him, only his mother said, in a tone of forced
+unconcern, "Could you not see Christian coming?" as though she
+were made anxious only by the absence of her younger son. Hardly
+had Sweyn stamped near to the fire than clear knocking was heard
+at the door. Tyr leapt from the hearth, his eyes red as the fire,
+his fangs showing white in the black jowl, his neck ridged and
+bristling; and overleaping Rol, ramped at the door, barking
+furiously.
+</p>
+<p>Outside the door a clear mellow voice was calling. Tyr's bark made
+the words undistinguishable.
+No one offered to stir towards the door before Sweyn.
+</p>
+<p>He stalked down the room resolutely, lifted the latch, and swung
+back the door.
+</p>
+<p>A white-robed woman glided in.
+</p>
+<p>No wraith! Living&#8212;beautiful&#8212;young.
+</p>
+<p>Tyr leapt upon her.
+</p>
+<p>Lithely she baulked the sharp fangs with folds of her long fur
+robe, and snatching from her girdle a small two-edged axe, whirled
+it up for a blow of defence.
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn caught the dog by the collar, and dragged him off yelling
+and struggling.
+</p>
+<p>The stranger stood in the doorway motionless, one foot set
+forward, one arm flung up, till the house-mistress hurried down
+the room; and Sweyn, relinquishing to others the furious Tyr,
+turned again to close the door, and offer excuse for so fierce a
+greeting. Then she lowered her arm, slung the axe in its place at
+her waist, loosened the furs about her face, and shook over her
+shoulders the long white robe&#8212;all as it were with the sway of one
+movement.
+</p>
+<p>She was a maiden, tall and very fair. The fashion of her dress was
+strange, half masculine, yet not unwomanly. A fine fur tunic,
+reaching but little below the knee, was all the skirt she wore;
+below were the cross-bound shoes and leggings that a hunter wears.
+A white fur cap was set low upon the brows, and from its edge
+strips of fur fell lappet-wise about her shoulders; two of these
+at her entrance had been drawn forward and crossed about her
+throat, but now, loosened and thrust back, left unhidden long
+plaits of fair hair that lay forward on shoulder and breast, down
+to the ivory-studded girdle where the axe gleamed.
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn and his mother led the stranger to the hearth without
+question or sign of curiosity, till she voluntarily told her tale
+of a long journey to distant kindred, a promised guide unmet, and
+signals and landmarks mistaken.
+</p>
+<p>"Alone!" exclaimed Sweyn in astonishment. "Have you journeyed thus
+far, a hundred leagues, alone?"
+</p>
+<p>She answered "Yes" with a little smile.
+</p>
+<p>"Over the hills and the wastes! Why, the folk there are savage and
+wild as beasts."
+</p>
+<p>She dropped her hand upon her axe with a laugh of some scorn.
+</p>
+<p>"I fear neither man nor beast; some few fear me." And then she
+told strange tales of fierce attack and defence, and of the bold
+free huntress life she had led.
+</p>
+<p>Her words came a little slowly and deliberately, as though she
+spoke in a scarce familiar tongue; now and then she hesitated, and
+stopped in a phrase, as though for lack of some word.
+</p>
+<p>She became the centre of a group of listeners. The interest she
+excited dissipated, in some degree, the dread inspired by the
+mysterious voices. There was nothing ominous about this young,
+bright, fair reality, though her aspect was strange.
+</p>
+<p>Little Rol crept near, staring at the stranger with all his might.
+Unnoticed, he softly stroked and patted a corner of her soft white
+robe that reached to the floor in ample folds. He laid his cheek
+against it caressingly, and then edged up close to her knees.
+</p>
+<p>"What is your name?" he asked.
+</p>
+<p>The stranger's smile and ready answer, as she looked down, saved
+Rol from the rebuke merited by his unmannerly question.
+</p>
+<p>"My real name," she said, "would be uncouth to your ears and
+tongue. The folk of this country have given me another name, and
+from this" (she laid her hand on the fur robe) "they call me
+'White Fell.'"
+</p>
+<p>Little Rol repeated it to himself, stroking and patting as before.
+"White Fell, White Fell."
+</p>
+<p>The fair face, and soft, beautiful dress pleased Rol. He knelt up,
+with his eyes on her face and an air of uncertain determination,
+like a robin's on a doorstep, and plumped his elbows into her lap
+with a little gasp at his own audacity.
+</p>
+<p>"Rol!" exclaimed his aunt; but, "Oh, let him!" said White Fell,
+smiling and stroking his head; and Rol stayed.
+</p>
+<p>He advanced farther, and panting at his own adventurousness in the
+face of his aunt's authority, climbed up on to her knees. Her
+welcoming arms hindered any protest. He nestled happily, fingering
+the axe head, the ivory studs in her girdle, the ivory clasp at
+her throat, the plaits of fair hair; rubbing his head against the
+softness of her fur-clad shoulder, with a child's full confidence
+in the kindness of beauty.
+</p>
+<p>White Fell had not uncovered her head, only knotted the pendant
+fur loosely behind her neck. Rol reached up his hand towards it,
+whispering her name to himself, "White Fell, White Fell," then
+slid his arms round her neck, and kissed her&#8212;once&#8212;twice. She
+laughed delightedly, and kissed him again.
+</p>
+<p>"The child plagues you?" said Sweyn.
+</p>
+<p>"No, indeed," she answered, with an earnestness so intense as to
+seem disproportionate to the occasion.
+</p>
+<p>Rol settled himself again on her lap, and began to unwind the
+bandage bound round his hand. He paused a little when he saw where
+the blood had soaked through; then went on till his hand was bare
+and the cut displayed, gaping and long, though only skin deep. He
+held it up towards White Fell, desirous of her pity and sympathy.
+</p>
+<p>At sight of it, and the blood-stained linen, she drew in her
+breath suddenly, clasped Rol to her&#8212;hard, hard&#8212;till he began to
+struggle. Her face was hidden behind the boy, so that none could
+see its expression. It had lighted up with a most awful glee.
+</p>
+<p>Afar, beyond the fir-grove, beyond the low hill behind, the absent
+Christian was hastening his return. From daybreak he had been
+afoot, carrying notice of a bear hunt to all the best hunters of
+the farms and hamlets that lay within a radius of twelve miles.
+Nevertheless, having been detained till a late hour, he now broke
+into a run, going with a long smooth stride of apparent ease that
+fast made the miles diminish.
+</p>
+<p>He entered the midnight blackness of the fir-grove with scarcely
+slackened pace, though the path was invisible; and passing through
+into the open again, sighted the farm lying a furlong off down the
+slope. Then he sprang out freely, and almost on the instant gave
+one great sideways leap, and stood still. There in the snow was
+the track of a great wolf.
+</p>
+<p>His hand went to his knife, his only weapon. He stooped, knelt
+down, to bring his eyes to the level of a beast, and peered about;
+his teeth set, his heart beat a little harder than the pace of his
+running insisted on. A solitary wolf, nearly always savage and of
+large size, is a formidable beast that will not hesitate to attack
+a single man. This wolf-track was the largest Christian had ever
+seen, and, so far as he could judge, recently made. It led from
+under the fir-trees down the slope. Well for him, he thought, was
+the delay that had so vexed him before: well for him that he had
+not passed through the dark fir-grove when that danger of jaws
+lurked there. Going warily, he followed the track.
+</p>
+<p>It led down the slope, across a broad ice-bound stream, along the
+level beyond, making towards the farm. A less precise knowledge
+had doubted, and guessed that here might have come straying big
+Tyr or his like; but Christian was sure, knowing better than to
+mistake between footmark of dog and wolf.
+</p>
+<p>Straight on&#8212;straight on towards the farm.
+</p>
+<p>Surprised and anxious grew Christian, that a prowling wolf should
+dare so near. He drew his knife and pressed on, more hastily, more
+keen-eyed. Oh that Tyr were with him!
+</p>
+<p>Straight on, straight on, even to the very door, where the snow
+failed. His heart seemed to give a great leap and then stop. There
+the track <i>ended</i>.
+</p>
+<p>Nothing lurked in the porch, and there was no sign of return. The
+firs stood straight against the sky, the clouds lay low; for the
+wind had fallen and a few snowflakes came drifting down. In a
+horror of surprise, Christian stood dazed a moment: then he lifted
+the latch and went in. His glance took in all the old familiar
+forms and faces, and with them that of the stranger, fur-clad and
+beautiful. The awful truth flashed upon him: he knew what she was.
+</p>
+<p>Only a few were startled by the rattle of the latch as he entered.
+The room was filled with bustle and movement, for it was the
+supper hour, when all tools were laid aside, and trestles and
+tables shifted. Christian had no knowledge of what he said and
+did; he moved and spoke mechanically, half thinking that soon he
+must wake from this horrible dream. Sweyn and his mother supposed
+him to be cold and dead-tired, and spared all unnecessary
+questions. And he found himself seated beside the hearth, opposite
+that dreadful Thing that looked like a beautiful girl; watching
+her every movement, curdling with horror to see her fondle the
+child Rol.
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn stood near them both, intent upon White Fell also; but how
+differently! She seemed unconscious of the gaze of both&#8212;neither
+aware of the chill dread in the eyes of Christian, nor of Sweyn's
+warm admiration.
+</p>
+<p>These two brothers, who were twins, contrasted greatly, despite
+their striking likeness. They were alike in regular profile, fair
+brown hair, and deep blue eyes; but Sweyn's features were perfect
+as a young god's, while Christian's showed faulty details. Thus,
+the line of his mouth was set too straight, the eyes shelved too
+deeply back, and the contour of the face flowed in less generous
+curves than Sweyn's. Their height was the same, but Christian was
+too slender for perfect proportion, while Sweyn's well-knit frame,
+broad shoulders, and muscular arms, made him pre-eminent for manly
+beauty as well as for strength. As a hunter Sweyn was without
+rival; as a fisher without rival. All the countryside acknowledged
+him to be the best wrestler, rider, dancer, singer. Only in speed
+could he be surpassed, and in that only by his younger brother.
+All others Sweyn could distance fairly; but Christian could outrun
+him easily. Ay, he could keep pace with Sweyn's most breathless
+burst, and laugh and talk the while. Christian took little pride
+in his fleetness of foot, counting a man's legs to be the least
+worthy of his members. He had no envy of his brother's athletic
+superiority, though to several feats he had made a moderate
+second. He loved as only a twin can love&#8212;proud of all that Sweyn
+did, content with all that Sweyn was; humbly content also that his
+own great love should not be so exceedingly returned, since he
+knew himself to be so far less love-worthy.
+</p>
+<p>Christian dared not, in the midst of women and children, launch
+the horror that he knew into words. He waited to consult his
+brother; but Sweyn did not, or would not, notice the signal he
+made, and kept his face always turned towards White Fell.
+Christian drew away from the hearth, unable to remain passive with
+that dread upon him.
+</p>
+<p>"Where is Tyr?" he said suddenly. Then, catching sight of the dog
+in a distant corner, "Why is he chained there?"
+</p>
+<p>"He flew at the stranger," one answered.
+</p>
+<p>Christian's eyes glowed. "Yes?" he said, interrogatively.
+</p>
+<p>"He was within an ace of having his brain knocked out."
+</p>
+<p>"Tyr?"
+</p>
+<p>"Yes; she was nimbly up with that little axe she has at her waist.
+It was well for old Tyr that his master throttled him off."
+</p>
+<p>Christian went without a word to the corner where Tyr was chained.
+The dog rose up to meet him, as piteous and indignant as a dumb
+beast can be. He stroked the black head. "Good Tyr! brave dog!"
+</p>
+<p>They knew, they only; and the man and the dumb dog had comfort of
+each other.
+</p>
+<p>Christian's eyes turned again towards White Fell: Tyr's also, and
+he strained against the length of the chain. Christian's hand lay
+on the dog's neck, and he felt it ridge and bristle with the
+quivering of impotent fury. Then he began to quiver in like
+manner, with a fury born of reason, not instinct; as impotent
+morally as was Tyr physically. Oh! the woman's form that he dare
+not touch! Anything but that, and he with Tyr would be free to
+kill or be killed.
+</p>
+<p>Then he returned to ask fresh questions.
+</p>
+<p>"How long has the stranger been here?"
+</p>
+<p>"She came about half-an-hour before you."
+</p>
+<p>"Who opened the door to her?"
+</p>
+<p>"Sweyn: no one else dared."
+</p>
+<p>The tone of the answer was mysterious.
+</p>
+<p>"Why?" queried Christian. "Has anything strange happened? Tell
+me."
+</p>
+<p>For answer he was told in a low undertone of the summons at the
+door thrice repeated without human agency; and of Tyr's ominous
+howls; and of Sweyn's fruitless watch outside.
+</p>
+<p>Christian turned towards his brother in a torment of impatience
+for a word apart. The board was spread, and Sweyn was leading
+White Fell to the guest's place. This was more awful: she would
+break bread with them under the roof-tree!
+</p>
+<p>He started forward, and touching Sweyn's arm, whispered an urgent
+entreaty. Sweyn stared, and shook his head in angry impatience.
+</p>
+<p>Thereupon Christian would take no morsel of food.
+</p>
+<p>His opportunity came at last. White Fell questioned of the
+landmarks of the country, and of one Cairn Hill, which was an
+appointed meeting-place at which she was due that night. The
+house-mistress and Sweyn both exclaimed.
+</p>
+<p>"It is three long miles away," said Sweyn; "with no place for
+shelter but a wretched hut. Stay with us this night, and I will
+show you the way to-morrow."
+</p>
+<p>White Fell seemed to hesitate. "Three miles," she said; "then I
+should be able to see or hear a signal."
+</p>
+<p>"I will look out," said Sweyn; "then, if there be no signal, you
+must not leave us."
+</p>
+<p>He went to the door. Christian rose silently, and followed him
+out.
+</p>
+<p>"Sweyn, do you know what she is?"
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn, surprised at the vehement grasp, and low hoarse voice, made
+answer:
+</p>
+<p>"She? Who? White Fell?"
+</p>
+<p>"Yes."
+</p>
+<p>"She is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen."
+</p>
+<p>"She is a Were-Wolf."
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn burst out laughing. "Are you mad?" he asked.
+</p>
+<p>"No; here, see for yourself."
+</p>
+<p>Christian drew him out of the porch, pointing to the snow where
+the footmarks had been. Had been, for now they were not. Snow was
+falling fast, and every dint was blotted out.
+</p>
+<p>"Well?" asked Sweyn.
+</p>
+<p>"Had you come when I signed to you, you would have seen for
+yourself."
+</p>
+<p>"Seen what?"
+</p>
+<p>"The footprints of a wolf leading up to the door; none leading
+away."
+</p>
+<p>It was impossible not to be startled by the tone alone, though it
+was hardly above a whisper. Sweyn eyed his brother anxiously, but
+in the darkness could make nothing of his face. Then he laid his
+hands kindly and re-assuringly on Christian's shoulders and felt
+how he was quivering with excitement and horror.
+</p>
+<p>"One sees strange things," he said, "when the cold has got into
+the brain behind the eyes; you came in cold and worn out."
+</p>
+<p>"No," interrupted Christian. "I saw the track first on the brow of
+the slope, and followed it down right here to the door. This is no
+delusion."
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn in his heart felt positive that it was. Christian was given
+to day-dreams and strange fancies, though never had he been
+possessed with so mad a notion before.
+</p>
+<p>"Don't you believe me?" said Christian desperately. "You must. I
+swear it is sane truth. Are you blind? Why, even Tyr knows."
+</p>
+<p>"You will be clearer headed to-morrow after a night's rest. Then
+come too, if you will, with White Fell, to the Hill Cairn; and if
+you have doubts still, watch and follow, and see what footprints
+she leaves."
+</p>
+<p>Galled by Sweyn's evident contempt Christian turned abruptly to
+the door. Sweyn caught him back.
+</p>
+<p>"What now, Christian? What are you going to do?"
+</p>
+<p>"You do not believe me; my mother shall."
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn's grasp tightened. "You shall not tell her," he said
+authoritatively.
+</p>
+<p>Customarily Christian was so docile to his brother's mastery that
+it was now a surprising thing when he wrenched himself free
+vigorously, and said as determinedly as Sweyn, "She shall know!"
+but Sweyn was nearer the door and would not let him pass.
+</p>
+<p>"There has been scare enough for one night already. If this notion
+of yours will keep, broach it to-morrow." Christian would not
+yield.
+</p>
+<p>"Women are so easily scared," pursued Sweyn, "and are ready to
+believe any folly without shadow of proof. Be a man, Christian,
+and fight this notion of a Were-Wolf by yourself."
+</p>
+<p>"If you would believe me," began Christian.
+</p>
+<p>"I believe you to be a fool," said Sweyn, losing patience.
+"Another, who was not your brother, might believe you to be a
+knave, and guess that you had transformed White Fell into a
+Were-Wolf because she smiled more readily on me than on you."
+</p>
+<p>The jest was not without foundation, for the grace of White Fell's
+bright looks had been bestowed on him, on Christian never a whit.
+Sweyn's coxcombery was always frank, and most forgiveable, and not
+without fair colour.
+</p>
+<p>"If you want an ally," continued Sweyn, "confide in old Trella.
+Out of her stores of wisdom, if her memory holds good, she can
+instruct you in the orthodox manner of tackling a Were-Wolf. If I
+remember aright, you should watch the suspected person till
+midnight, when the beast's form must be resumed, and retained ever
+after if a human eye sees the change; or, better still, sprinkle
+hands and feet with holy water, which is certain death. Oh! never
+fear, but old Trella will be equal to the occasion."
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn's contempt was no longer good-humoured; some touch of
+irritation or resentment rose at this monstrous doubt of White
+Fell. But Christian was too deeply distressed to take offence.
+</p>
+<p>"You speak of them as old wives' tales; but if you had seen the
+proof I have seen, you would be ready at least to wish them true,
+if not also to put them to the test."
+</p>
+<p>"Well," said Sweyn, with a laugh that had a little sneer in it,
+"put them to the test! I will not object to that, if you will only
+keep your notions to yourself. Now, Christian, give me your word
+for silence, and we will freeze here no longer."
+</p>
+<p>Christian remained silent.
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn put his hands on his shoulders again and vainly tried to see
+his face in the darkness.
+</p>
+<p>"We have never quarrelled yet, Christian?"
+</p>
+<p>"I have never quarrelled," returned the other, aware for the first
+time that his dictatorial brother had sometimes offered occasion
+for quarrel, had he been ready to take it.
+</p>
+<p>"Well," said Sweyn emphatically, "if you speak against White Fell
+to any other, as to-night you have spoken to me&#8212;we shall."
+</p>
+<p>He delivered the words like an ultimatum, turned sharp round, and
+re-entered the house. Christian, more fearful and wretched than
+before, followed.
+</p>
+<p>"Snow is falling fast: not a single light is to be seen."
+</p>
+<p>White Fell's eyes passed over Christian without apparent notice,
+and turned bright and shining upon Sweyn.
+</p>
+<p>"Nor any signal to be heard?" she queried. "Did you not hear the
+sound of a sea-horn?"
+</p>
+<p>"I saw nothing, and heard nothing; and signal or no signal, the
+heavy snow would keep you here perforce."
+</p>
+<p>She smiled her thanks beautifully. And Christian's heart sank like
+lead with a deadly foreboding, as he noted what a light was
+kindled in Sweyn's eyes by her smile.
+</p>
+<p>That night, when all others slept, Christian, the weariest of all,
+watched outside the guest-chamber till midnight was past. No
+sound, not the faintest, could be heard. Could the old tale be
+true of the midnight change? What was on the other side of the
+door, a woman or a beast? he would have given his right hand to
+know. Instinctively he laid his hand on the latch, and drew it
+softly, though believing that bolts fastened the inner side. The
+door yielded to his hand; he stood on the threshold; a keen gust
+of air cut at him; the window stood open; the room was empty.
+</p>
+<p>So Christian could sleep with a somewhat lightened heart.
+</p>
+<p>In the morning there was surprise and conjecture when White Fell's
+absence was discovered. Christian held his peace. Not even to his
+brother did he say how he knew that she had fled before midnight;
+and Sweyn, though evidently greatly chagrined, seemed to disdain
+reference to the subject of Christian's fears.
+</p>
+<p>The elder brother alone joined the bear hunt; Christian found
+pretext to stay behind. Sweyn, being out of humour, manifested his
+contempt by uttering not a single expostulation.
+</p>
+<p>All that day, and for many a day after, Christian would never go
+out of sight of his home. Sweyn alone noticed how he man&#339;uvred for
+this, and was clearly annoyed by it. White Fell's name was never
+mentioned between them, though not seldom was it heard in general
+talk. Hardly a day passed but little Rol asked when White Fell
+would come again: pretty White Fell, who kissed like a snowflake.
+And if Sweyn answered, Christian would be quite sure that the
+light in his eyes, kindled by White Fell's smile, had not yet died
+out.
+</p>
+<p>Little Rol! Naughty, merry, fairhaired little Rol. A day came when
+his feet raced over the threshold never to return; when his
+chatter and laugh were heard no more; when tears of anguish were
+wept by eyes that never would see his bright head again: never
+again, living or dead.
+</p>
+<p>He was seen at dusk for the last time, escaping from the house
+with his puppy, in freakish rebellion against old Trella. Later,
+when his absence had begun to cause anxiety, his puppy crept back
+to the farm, cowed, whimpering and yelping, a pitiful, dumb lump
+of terror, without intelligence or courage to guide the frightened
+search.
+</p>
+<p>Rol was never found, nor any trace of him. Where he had perished
+was never known; how he had perished was known only by an awful
+guess&#8212;a wild beast had devoured him.
+</p>
+<p>Christian heard the conjecture "a wolf"; and a horrible certainty
+flashed upon him that he knew what wolf it was. He tried to
+declare what he knew, but Sweyn saw him start at the words with
+white face and struggling lips; and, guessing his purpose, pulled
+him back, and kept him silent, hardly, by his imperious grip and
+wrathful eyes, and one low whisper.
+</p>
+<p>That Christian should retain his most irrational suspicion against
+beautiful White Fell was, to Sweyn, evidence of a weak obstinacy
+of mind that would but thrive upon expostulation and argument. But
+this evident intention to direct the passions of grief and anguish
+to a hatred and fear of the fair stranger, such as his own, was
+intolerable, and Sweyn set his will against it. Again Christian
+yielded to his brother's stronger words and will, and against his
+own judgment consented to silence.
+</p>
+<p>Repentance came before the new moon, the first of the year, was
+old. White Fell came again, smiling as she entered, as though
+assured of a glad and kindly welcome; and, in truth, there was
+only one who saw again her fair face and strange white garb
+without pleasure. Sweyn's face glowed with delight, while
+Christian's grew pale and rigid as death. He had given his word to
+keep silence; but he had not thought that she would dare to come
+again. Silence was impossible, face to face with that Thing,
+impossible. Irrepressibly he cried out:
+</p>
+<p>"Where is Rol?"
+</p>
+<p>Not a quiver disturbed White Fell's face. She heard, yet remained
+bright and tranquil. Sweyn's eyes flashed round at his brother
+dangerously. Among the women some tears fell at the poor child's
+name; but none caught alarm from its sudden utterance, for the
+thought of Rol rose naturally. Where was little Rol, who had
+nestled in the stranger's arms, kissing her; and watched for her
+since; and prattled of her daily?
+</p>
+<p>Christian went out silently. One only thing there was that he
+could do, and he must not delay. His horror overmastered any
+curiosity to hear White Fell's smooth excuses and smiling
+apologies for her strange and uncourteous departure; or her easy
+tale of the circumstances of her return; or to watch her bearing
+as she heard the sad tale of little Rol.
+</p>
+<p>The swiftest runner of the country-side had started on his hardest
+race: little less than three leagues and back, which he reckoned
+to accomplish in two hours, though the night was moonless and the
+way rugged. He rushed against the still cold air till it felt like
+a wind upon his face. The dim homestead sank below the ridges at
+his back, and fresh ridges of snowlands rose out of the obscure
+horizon-level to drive past him as the stirless air drove, and
+sink away behind into obscure level again. He took no conscious
+heed of landmarks, not even when all sign of a path was gone under
+depths of snow. His will was set to reach his goal with unexampled
+speed; and thither by instinct his physical forces bore him,
+without one definite thought to guide.
+</p>
+<p>And the idle brain lay passive, inert, receiving into its vacancy
+restless siftings of past sights and sounds: Rol, weeping,
+laughing, playing, coiled in the arms of that dreadful Thing:
+Tyr&#8212;O Tyr!&#8212;white fangs in the black jowl: the women who wept on
+The foolish puppy, precious for the child's last touch: footprints
+from pine wood to door: the smiling face among furs, of such
+womanly beauty&#8212;smiling&#8212;smiling: and Sweyn's face.
+</p>
+<p>"Sweyn, Sweyn, O Sweyn, my brother!"
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn's angry laugh possessed his ear within the sound of the wind
+of his speed; Sweyn's scorn assailed more quick and keen than the
+biting cold at his throat. And yet he was unimpressed by any
+thought of how Sweyn's anger and scorn would rise, if this errand
+were known.
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn was a sceptic. His utter disbelief in Christian's testimony
+regarding the footprints was based upon positive scepticism. His
+reason refused to bend in accepting the possibility of the
+supernatural materialised. That a living beast could ever be other
+than palpably bestial&#8212;pawed, toothed, shagged, and eared as such,
+was to him incredible; far more that a human presence could be
+transformed from its god-like aspect, upright, free-handed, with
+brows, and speech, and laughter. The wild and fearful legends that
+he had known from childhood and then believed, he regarded now as
+built upon facts distorted, overlaid by imagination, and quickened
+by superstition. Even the strange summons at the threshold, that
+he himself had vainly answered, was, after the first shock of
+surprise, rationally explained by him as malicious foolery on the
+part of some clever trickster, who withheld the key to the enigma.
+</p>
+<p>To the younger brother all life was a spiritual mystery, veiled
+from his clear knowledge by the density of flesh. Since he knew
+his own body to be linked to the complex and antagonistic forces
+that constitute one soul, it seemed to him not impossibly strange
+that one spiritual force should possess divers forms for widely
+various manifestation. Nor, to him, was it great effort to believe
+that as pure water washes away all natural foulness, so water,
+holy by consecration, must needs cleanse God's world from that
+supernatural evil Thing. Therefore, faster than ever man's foot
+had covered those leagues, he sped under the dark, still night,
+over the waste, trackless snow-ridges to the far-away church,
+where salvation lay in the holy-water stoup at the door. His faith
+was as firm as any that wrought miracles in days past, simple as a
+child's wish, strong as a man's will.
+</p>
+<p>He was hardly missed during these hours, every second of which was
+by him fulfilled to its utmost extent by extremest effort that
+sinews and nerves could attain. Within the homestead the while,
+the easy moments went bright with words and looks of unwonted
+animation, for the kindly, hospitable instincts of the inmates
+were roused into cordial expression of welcome and interest by the
+grace and beauty of the returned stranger.
+</p>
+<p>But Sweyn was eager and earnest, with more than a host's courteous
+warmth. The impression that at her first coming had charmed him,
+that had lived since through memory, deepened now in her actual
+presence. Sweyn, the matchless among men, acknowledged in this
+fair White Fell a spirit high and bold as his own, and a frame so
+firm and capable that only bulk was lacking for equal strength.
+Yet the white skin was moulded most smoothly, without such
+muscular swelling as made his might evident. Such love as his
+frank self-love could concede was called forth by an ardent
+admiration for this supreme stranger. More admiration than love
+was in his passion, and therefore he was free from a lover's
+hesitancy and delicate reserve and doubts. Frankly and boldly he
+courted her favour by looks and tones, and an address that came of
+natural ease, needless of skill by practice.
+</p>
+<p>Nor was she a woman to be wooed otherwise. Tender whispers and
+sighs would never gain her ear; but her eyes would brighten and
+shine if she heard of a brave feat, and her prompt hand in
+sympathy fall swiftly on the axe-haft and clasp it hard. That
+movement ever fired Sweyn's admiration anew; he watched for it,
+strove to elicit it, and glowed when it came. Wonderful and
+beautiful was that wrist, slender and steel-strong; also the
+smooth shapely hand, that curved so fast and firm, ready to deal
+instant death.
+</p>
+<p>Desiring to feel the pressure of these hands, this bold lover
+schemed with palpable directness, proposing that she should hear
+how their hunting songs were sung, with a chorus that signalled
+hands to be clasped. So his splendid voice gave the verses, and,
+as the chorus was taken up, he claimed her hands, and, even
+through the easy grip, felt, as he desired, the strength that was
+latent, and the vigour that quickened the very fingertips, as the
+song fired her, and her voice was caught out of her by the
+rhythmic swell, and rang clear on the top of the closing surge.
+</p>
+<p>Afterwards she sang alone. For contrast, or in the pride of
+swaying moods by her voice, she chose a mournful song that drifted
+along in a minor chant, sad as a wind that dirges:
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"Oh, let me go!</p>
+<p>Around spin wreaths of snow;</p>
+<p>The dark earth sleeps below.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"Far up the plain</p>
+<p>Moans on a voice of pain:</p>
+<p>'Where shall my babe be lain?'</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"In my white breast</p>
+<p>Lay the sweet life to rest!</p>
+<p>Lay, where it can lie best!</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"'Hush! hush its cries!</p>
+<p>Dense night is on the skies:</p>
+<p>Two stars are in thine eyes.'</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"Come, babe, away!</p>
+<p>But lie thou till dawn be grey,</p>
+<p>Who must be dead by day.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"This cannot last;</p>
+<p>But, ere the sickening blast,</p>
+<p>All sorrow shall be past;</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"And kings shall be</p>
+<p>Low bending at thy knee,</p>
+<p>Worshipping life from thee.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"For men long sore</p>
+<p>To hope of what's before,&#8212;</p>
+<p>To leave the things of yore.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"Mine, and not thine,</p>
+<p>How deep their jewels shine!</p>
+<p>Peace laps thy head, not mine."</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p>
+Old Trella came tottering from her corner, shaken to additional
+palsy by an aroused memory. She strained her dim eyes towards the
+singer, and then bent her head, that the one ear yet sensible to
+sound might avail of every note. At the close, groping forward,
+she murmured with the high-pitched quaver of old age:
+</p>
+<p>"So she sang, my Thora; my last and brightest. What is she like,
+she whose voice is like my dead Thora's? Are her eyes blue?"
+</p>
+<p>"Blue as the sky."
+</p>
+<p>"So were my Thora's! Is her hair fair, and in plaits to the
+waist?" "Even so," answered White Fell herself, and met the
+advancing hands with her own, and guided them to corroborate her
+words by touch.
+</p>
+<p>"Like my dead Thora's," repeated the old woman; and then her
+trembling hands rested on the fur-clad shoulders, and she bent
+forward and kissed the smooth fair face that White Fell upturned,
+nothing loth, to receive and return the caress.
+</p>
+<p>So Christian saw them as he entered.
+</p>
+<p>He stood a moment. After the starless darkness and the icy night
+air, and the fierce silent two hours' race, his senses reeled on
+sudden entrance into warmth, and light, and the cheery hum of
+voices. A sudden unforeseen anguish assailed him, as now first he
+entertained the possibility of being overmatched by her wiles and
+her daring, if at the approach of pure death she should start up
+at bay transformed to a terrible beast, and achieve a savage glut
+at the last. He looked with horror and pity on the harmless,
+helpless folk, so unwitting of outrage to their comfort and
+security. The dreadful Thing in their midst, that was veiled from
+their knowledge by womanly beauty, was a centre of pleasant
+interest. There, before him, signally impressive, was poor old
+Trella, weakest and feeblest of all, in fond nearness. And a
+moment might bring about the revelation of a monstrous horror&#8212;a
+ghastly, deadly danger, set loose and at bay, in a circle of girls
+and women and careless defenceless men: so hideous and terrible a
+thing as might crack the brain, or curdle the heart stone dead.
+</p>
+<p>And he alone of the throng prepared!
+</p>
+<div class="figure">
+<a name="wfescape.png" href="images/wfescape.png"><img
+ src="images/wfescape-tn.png" alt="Illustration: White Fell's Escape"/></a></div>
+<p>
+For one breathing space he faltered, no longer than that, while
+over him swept the agony of compunction that yet could not make
+him surrender his purpose.
+</p>
+<p>He alone? Nay, but Tyr also; and he crossed to the dumb sole
+sharer of his knowledge.
+</p>
+<p>So timeless is thought that a few seconds only lay between his
+lifting of the latch and his loosening of Tyr's collar; but in
+those few seconds succeeding his first glance, as lightning-swift
+had been the impulses of others, their motion as quick and sure.
+Sweyn's vigilant eye had darted upon him, and instantly his every
+fibre was alert with hostile instinct; and, half divining, half
+incredulous, of Christian's object in stooping to Tyr, he came
+hastily, wary, wrathful, resolute to oppose the malice of his
+wild-eyed brother.
+</p>
+<p>But beyond Sweyn rose White Fell, blanching white as her furs, and
+with eyes grown fierce and wild. She leapt down the room to the
+door, whirling her long robe closely to her. "Hark!" she panted.
+"The signal horn! Hark, I must go!" as she snatched at the latch
+to be out and away.
+</p>
+<p>For one precious moment Christian had hesitated on the
+half-loosened collar; for, except the womanly form were exchanged
+for the bestial, Tyr's jaws would gnash to rags his honour of
+manhood. Then he heard her voice, and turned&#8212;too late.
+</p>
+<p>As she tugged at the door, he sprang across grasping his flask,
+but Sweyn dashed between, and caught him back irresistibly, so
+that a most frantic effort only availed to wrench one arm free.
+With that, on the impulse of sheer despair, he cast at her with
+all his force. The door swung behind her, and the flask flew into
+fragments against it. Then, as Sweyn's grasp slackened, and he met
+the questioning astonishment of surrounding faces, with a hoarse
+inarticulate cry: "God help us all!" he said. "She is a
+Were-Wolf."
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn turned upon him, "Liar, coward!" and his hands gripped his
+brother's throat with deadly force, as though the spoken word
+could be killed so; and as Christian struggled, lifted him clear
+off his feet and flung him crashing backward. So furious was he,
+that, as his brother lay motionless, he stirred him roughly with
+his foot, till their mother came between, crying shame; and yet
+then he stood by, his teeth set, his brows knit, his hands
+clenched, ready to enforce silence again violently, as Christian
+rose staggering and bewildered.
+</p>
+<p>But utter silence and submission were more than he expected, and
+turned his anger into contempt for one so easily cowed and held in
+subjection by mere force. "He is mad!" he said, turning on his
+heel as he spoke, so that he lost his mother's look of pained
+reproach at this sudden free utterance of what was a lurking dread
+within her.
+</p>
+<p>Christian was too spent for the effort of speech. His hard-drawn
+breath laboured in great sobs; his limbs were powerless and
+unstrung in utter relax after hard service. Failure in his
+endeavour induced a stupor of misery and despair. In addition was
+the wretched humiliation of open violence and strife with his
+brother, and the distress of hearing misjudging contempt expressed
+without reserve; for he was aware that Sweyn had turned to allay
+the scared excitement half by imperious mastery, half by
+explanation and argument, that showed painful disregard of
+brotherly consideration. All this unkindness of his twin he
+charged upon the fell Thing who had wrought this their first
+dissension, and, ah! most terrible thought, interposed between
+them so effectually, that Sweyn was wilfully blind and deaf on her
+account, resentful of interference, arbitrary beyond reason.
+</p>
+<p>Dread and perplexity unfathomable darkened upon him; unshared, the
+burden was overwhelming: a foreboding of unspeakable calamity,
+based upon his ghastly discovery, bore down upon him, crushing out
+hope of power to withstand impending fate.
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn the while was observant of his brother, despite the
+continual check of finding, turn and glance when he would,
+Christian's eyes always upon him, with a strange look of helpless
+distress, discomposing enough to the angry aggressor. "Like a
+beaten dog!" he said to himself, rallying contempt to withstand
+compunction. Observation set him wondering on Christian's
+exhausted condition. The heavy labouring breath and the slack
+inert fall of the limbs told surely of unusual and prolonged
+exertion. And then why had close upon two hours' absence been
+followed by open hostility against White Fell?
+</p>
+<p>Suddenly, the fragments of the flask giving a clue, he guessed
+all, and faced about to stare at his brother in amaze. He forgot
+that the motive scheme was against White Fell, demanding derision
+and resentment from him; that was swept out of remembrance by
+astonishment and admiration for the feat of speed and endurance.
+In eagerness to question he inclined to attempt a generous part
+and frankly offer to heal the breach; but Christian's depression
+and sad following gaze provoked him to self-justification by
+recalling the offence of that outrageous utterance against White
+Fell; and the impulse passed. Then other considerations counselled
+silence; and afterwards a humour possessed him to wait and see how
+Christian would find opportunity to proclaim his performance and
+establish the fact, without exciting ridicule on account of the
+absurdity of the errand.
+</p>
+<p>This expectation remained unfulfilled. Christian never attempted
+the proud avowal that would have placed his feat on record to be
+told to the next generation.
+</p>
+<p>That night Sweyn and his mother talked long and late together,
+shaping into certainty the suspicion that Christian's mind had
+lost its balance, and discussing the evident cause. For Sweyn,
+declaring his own love for White Fell, suggested that his
+unfortunate brother, with a like passion, they being twins in
+loves as in birth, had through jealousy and despair turned from
+love to hate, until reason failed at the strain, and a craze
+developed, which the malice and treachery of madness made a
+serious and dangerous force.
+</p>
+<p>So Sweyn theorised, convincing himself as he spoke; convincing
+afterwards others who advanced doubts against White Fell;
+fettering his judgment by his advocacy, and by his staunch defence
+of her hurried flight silencing his own inner consciousness of the
+unaccountability of her action.
+</p>
+<p>But a little time and Sweyn lost his vantage in the shock of a
+fresh horror at the homestead. Trella was no more, and her end a
+mystery. The poor old woman crawled out in a bright gleam to visit
+a bed-ridden gossip living beyond the fir-grove. Under the trees
+she was last seen, halting for her companion, sent back for a
+forgotten present. Quick alarm sprang, calling every man to the
+search. Her stick was found among the brushwood only a few paces
+from the path, but no track or stain, for a gusty wind was sifting
+the snow from the branches, and hid all sign of how she came by
+her death.
+</p>
+<p>So panic-stricken were the farm folk that none dared go singly on
+the search. Known danger could be braced, but not this stealthy
+Death that walked by day invisible, that cut off alike the child
+in his play and the aged woman so near to her quiet grave.
+</p>
+<p>"Rol she kissed; Trella she kissed!" So rang Christian's frantic
+cry again and again, till Sweyn dragged him away and strove to
+keep him apart, albeit in his agony of grief and remorse he
+accused himself wildly as answerable for the tragedy, and gave
+clear proof that the charge of madness was well founded, if
+strange looks and desperate, incoherent words were evidence
+enough.
+</p>
+<p>But thenceforward all Sweyn's reasoning and mastery could not
+uphold White Fell above suspicion. He was not called upon to
+defend her from accusation when Christian had been brought to
+silence again; but he well knew the significance of this fact,
+that her name, formerly uttered freely and often, he never heard
+now: it was huddled away into whispers that he could not catch.
+</p>
+<p>The passing of time did not sweep away the superstitious fears
+that Sweyn despised. He was angry and anxious; eager that White
+Fell should return, and, merely by her bright gracious presence,
+reinstate herself in favour; but doubtful if all his authority and
+example could keep from her notice an altered aspect of welcome;
+and he foresaw clearly that Christian would prove unmanageable,
+and might be capable of some dangerous outbreak.
+</p>
+<p>For a time the twins' variance was marked, on Sweyn's part by an
+air of rigid indifference, on Christian's by heavy downcast
+silence, and a nervous apprehensive observation of his brother.
+Superadded to his remorse and foreboding, Sweyn's displeasure
+weighed upon him intolerably, and the remembrance of their violent
+rupture was a ceaseless misery. The elder brother, self-sufficient
+and insensitive, could little know how deeply his unkindness
+stabbed. A depth and force of affection such as Christian's was
+unknown to him. The loyal subservience that he could not
+appreciate had encouraged him to domineer; this strenuous
+opposition to his reason and will was accounted as furious malice,
+if not sheer insanity.
+</p>
+<p>Christian's surveillance galled him incessantly, and embarrassment
+and danger he foresaw as the outcome. Therefore, that suspicion
+might be lulled, he judged it wise to make overtures for peace.
+Most easily done. A little kindliness, a few evidences of
+consideration, a slight return of the old brotherly imperiousness,
+and Christian replied by a gratefulness and relief that might have
+touched him had he understood all, but instead, increased his
+secret contempt.
+</p>
+<p>So successful was this finesse, that when, late on a day, a
+message summoning Christian to a distance was transmitted by
+Sweyn, no doubt of its genuineness occurred. When, his errand
+proved useless, he set out to return, mistake or misapprehension
+was all that he surmised. Not till he sighted the homestead, lying
+low between the night-grey snow ridges, did vivid recollection of
+the time when he had tracked that horror to the door rouse an
+intense dread, and with it a hardly-defined suspicion.
+</p>
+<p>His grasp tightened on the bear-spear that he carried as a staff;
+every sense was alert, every muscle strung; excitement urged him
+on, caution checked him, and the two governed his long stride,
+swiftly, noiselessly, to the climax he felt was at hand.
+</p>
+<p>As he drew near to the outer gates, a light shadow stirred and
+went, as though the grey of the snow had taken detached motion. A
+darker shadow stayed and faced Christian, striking his life-blood
+chill with utmost despair.
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn stood before him, and surely, the shadow that went was White
+Fell.
+</p>
+<p>They had been together&#8212;close. Had she not been in his arms, near
+enough for lips to meet?
+</p>
+<p>There was no moon, but the stars gave light enough to show that
+Sweyn's face was flushed and elate. The flush remained, though the
+expression changed quickly at sight of his brother. How, if
+Christian had seen all, should one of his frenzied outbursts be
+met and managed: by resolution? by indifference? He halted between
+the two, and as a result, he swaggered.
+</p>
+<p>"White Fell?" questioned Christian, hoarse and breathless.
+</p>
+<p>"Yes?"
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn's answer was a query, with an intonation that implied he was
+clearing the ground for action.
+</p>
+<p>From Christian came: "Have you kissed her?" like a bolt direct,
+staggering Sweyn by its sheer prompt temerity.
+</p>
+<p>He flushed yet darker, and yet half-smiled over this earnest of
+success he had won. Had there been really between himself and
+Christian the rivalry that he imagined, his face had enough of the
+insolence of triumph to exasperate jealous rage.
+</p>
+<p>"You dare ask this!"
+</p>
+<p>"Sweyn, O Sweyn, I must know! You have!"
+</p>
+<p>The ring of despair and anguish in his tone angered Sweyn,
+misconstruing it. Jealousy urging to such presumption was
+intolerable.
+</p>
+<p>"Mad fool!" he said, constraining himself no longer. "Win for
+yourself a woman to kiss. Leave mine without question. Such an one
+as I should desire to kiss is such an one as shall never allow a
+kiss to you."
+</p>
+<p>Then Christian fully understood his supposition.
+</p>
+<p>"I&#8212;I!" he cried. "White Fell&#8212;that deadly Thing! Sweyn, are you
+blind, mad? I would save you from her: a Were-Wolf!"
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn maddened again at the accusation&#8212;a dastardly way of
+revenge, as he conceived; and instantly, for the second time, the
+brothers were at strife violently.
+</p>
+<p>But Christian was now too desperate to be scrupulous; for a dim
+glimpse had shot a possibility into his mind, and to be free to
+follow it the striking of his brother was a necessity. Thank God!
+he was armed, and so Sweyn's equal.
+</p>
+<div class="figure">
+<a name="race.png" href="images/race.png"><img src="images/race-tn.png"
+ alt="Illustration: The Race"/></a></div>
+<p>
+Facing his assailant with the bear-spear, he struck up his arms,
+and with the butt end hit hard so that he fell. The matchless
+runner leapt away on the instant, to follow a forlorn hope. Sweyn,
+on regaining his feet, was as amazed as angry at this unaccountable
+flight. He knew in his heart that his brother was no
+coward, and that it was unlike him to shrink from an encounter
+because defeat was certain, and cruel humiliation from a
+vindictive victor probable. Of the uselessness of pursuit he was
+well aware: he must abide his chagrin, content to know that his
+time for advantage would come. Since White Fell had parted to the
+right, Christian to the left, the event of a sequent encounter did
+not occur to him. And now Christian, acting on the dim glimpse he
+had had, just as Sweyn turned upon him, of something that moved
+against the sky along the ridge behind the homestead, was staking
+his only hope on a chance, and his own superlative speed. If what
+he saw was really White Fell, he guessed she was bending her steps
+towards the open wastes; and there was just a possibility that, by
+a straight dash, and a desperate perilous leap over a sheer bluff,
+he might yet meet her or head her. And then: he had no further
+thought.
+</p>
+<p>It was past, the quick, fierce race, and the chance of death at
+the leap; and he halted in a hollow to fetch his breath and to
+look: did she come? had she gone?
+</p>
+<p>She came.
+</p>
+<p>She came with a smooth, gliding, noiseless speed, that was neither
+walking nor running; her arms were folded in her furs that were
+drawn tight about her body; the white lappets from her head were
+wrapped and knotted closely beneath her face; her eyes were set on
+a far distance. So she went till the even sway of her going was
+startled to a pause by Christian.
+</p>
+<p>"Fell!"
+</p>
+<p>She drew a quick, sharp breath at the sound of her name thus
+mutilated, and faced Sweyn's brother. Her eyes glittered; her
+upper lip was lifted, and shewed the teeth. The half of her name,
+impressed with an ominous sense as uttered by him, warned her of
+the aspect of a deadly foe. Yet she cast loose her robes till they
+trailed ample, and spoke as a mild woman.
+</p>
+<p>"What would you?"
+</p>
+<p>Then Christian answered with his solemn dreadful accusation:
+</p>
+<p>"You kissed Rol&#8212;and Rol is dead! You kissed Trella: she is dead!
+You have kissed Sweyn, my brother; but he shall not die!"
+</p>
+<p>He added: "You may live till midnight."
+</p>
+<p>The edge of the teeth and the glitter of the eyes stayed a moment,
+and her right hand also slid down to the axe haft. Then, without a
+word, she swerved from him, and sprang out and away swiftly over
+the snow.
+</p>
+<p>And Christian sprang out and away, and followed her swiftly over
+the snow, keeping behind, but half-a-stride's length from her
+side.
+</p>
+<p>So they went running together, silent, towards the vast wastes of
+snow, where no living thing but they two moved under the stars of
+night.
+</p>
+<p>Never before had Christian so rejoiced in his powers. The gift of
+speed, and the training of use and endurance were priceless to him
+now. Though midnight was hours away, he was confident that, go
+where that Fell Thing would, hasten as she would, she could not
+outstrip him nor escape from him. Then, when came the time for
+transformation, when the woman's form made no longer a shield
+against a man's hand, he could slay or be slain to save Sweyn. He
+had struck his dear brother in dire extremity, but he could not,
+though reason urged, strike a woman.
+</p>
+<p>For one mile, for two miles they ran: White Fell ever foremost,
+Christian ever at equal distance from her side, so near that, now
+and again, her out-flying furs touched him. She spoke no word; nor
+he. She never turned her head to look at him, nor swerved to evade
+him; but, with set face looking forward, sped straight on, over
+rough, over smooth, aware of his nearness by the regular beat of
+his feet, and the sound of his breath behind.
+</p>
+<p>In a while she quickened her pace. From the first, Christian had
+judged of her speed as admirable, yet with exulting security in
+his own excelling and enduring whatever her efforts. But, when the
+pace increased, he found himself put to the test as never had he
+been before in any race. Her feet, indeed, flew faster than his;
+it was only by his length of stride that he kept his place at her
+side. But his heart was high and resolute, and he did not fear
+failure yet.
+</p>
+<p>So the desperate race flew on. Their feet struck up the powdery
+snow, their breath smoked into the sharp clear air, and they were
+gone before the air was cleared of snow and vapour. Now and then
+Christian glanced up to judge, by the rising of the stars, of the
+coming of midnight. So long&#8212;so long!
+</p>
+<p>White Fell held on without slack. She, it was evident, with
+confidence in her speed proving matchless, as resolute to outrun
+her pursuer as he to endure till midnight and fulfil his purpose.
+And Christian held on, still self-assured. He could not fail; he
+would not fail. To avenge Rol and Trella was motive enough for him
+to do what man could do; but for Sweyn more. She had kissed Sweyn,
+but he should not die too: with Sweyn to save he could not fail.
+</p>
+<p>Never before was such a race as this; no, not when in old Greece
+man and maid raced together with two fates at stake; for the hard
+running was sustained unabated, while star after star rose and
+went wheeling up towards midnight, for one hour, for two hours.
+</p>
+<p>Then Christian saw and heard what shot him through with fear.
+Where a fringe of trees hung round a slope he saw something dark
+moving, and heard a yelp, followed by a full horrid cry, and the
+dark spread out upon the snow, a pack of wolves in pursuit.
+</p>
+<p>Of the beasts alone he had little cause for fear; at the pace he
+held he could distance them, four-footed though they were. But of
+White Fell's wiles he had infinite apprehension, for how might she
+not avail herself of the savage jaws of these wolves, akin as they
+were to half her nature. She vouchsafed to them nor look nor sign;
+but Christian, on an impulse to assure himself that she should not
+escape him, caught and held the back-flung edge of her furs,
+running still.
+</p>
+<p>She turned like a flash with a beastly snarl, teeth and eyes
+gleaming again. Her axe shone, on the upstroke, on the downstroke,
+as she hacked at his hand. She had lopped it off at the wrist, but
+that he parried with the bear-spear. Even then, she shore through
+the shaft and shattered the bones of the hand at the same blow, so
+that he loosed perforce.
+</p>
+<p>Then again they raced on as before, Christian not losing a pace,
+though his left hand swung useless, bleeding and broken.
+</p>
+<p>The snarl, indubitable, though modified from a woman's organs, the
+vicious fury revealed in teeth and eyes, the sharp arrogant pain
+of her maiming blow, caught away Christian's heed of the beasts
+behind, by striking into him close vivid realisation of the
+infinitely greater danger that ran before him in that deadly
+Thing.
+</p>
+<p>When he bethought him to look behind, lo! the pack had but reached
+their tracks, and instantly slunk aside, cowed; the yell of
+pursuit changing to yelps and whines. So abhorrent was that fell
+creature to beast as to man.
+</p>
+<p>She had drawn her furs more closely to her, disposing them so
+that, instead of flying loose to her heels, no drapery hung lower
+than her knees, and this without a check to her wonderful speed,
+nor embarrassment by the cumbering of the folds. She held her head
+as before; her lips were firmly set, only the tense nostrils gave
+her breath; not a sign of distress witnessed to the long
+sustaining of that terrible speed.
+</p>
+<p>But on Christian by now the strain was telling palpably. His head
+weighed heavy, and his breath came labouring in great sobs; the
+bear spear would have been a burden now. His heart was beating
+like a hammer, but such a dulness oppressed his brain, that it was
+only by degrees he could realise his helpless state; wounded and
+weaponless, chasing that terrible Thing, that was a fierce,
+desperate, axe-armed woman, except she should assume the beast
+with fangs yet more formidable.
+</p>
+<p>And still the far slow stars went lingering nearly an hour from
+midnight.
+</p>
+<p>So far was his brain astray that an impression took him that she
+was fleeing from the midnight stars, whose gain was by such slow
+degrees that a time equalling days and days had gone in the race
+round the northern circle of the world, and days and days as long
+might last before the end&#8212;except she slackened, or except he
+failed.
+</p>
+<p>But he would not fail yet.
+</p>
+<p>How long had he been praying so? He had started with a
+self-confidence and reliance that had felt no need for that aid;
+and now it seemed the only means by which to restrain his heart
+from swelling beyond the compass of his body, by which to cherish
+his brain from dwindling and shrivelling quite away. Some
+sharp-toothed creature kept tearing and dragging on his maimed
+left hand; he never could see it, he could not shake it off; but
+he prayed it off at times.
+</p>
+<p>The clear stars before him took to shuddering, and he knew why:
+they shuddered at sight of what was behind him. He had never
+divined before that strange things hid themselves from men under
+pretence of being snow-clad mounds or swaying trees; but now they
+came slipping out from their harmless covers to follow him, and
+mock at his impotence to make a kindred Thing resolve to truer
+form. He knew the air behind him was thronged; he heard the hum of
+innumerable murmurings together; but his eyes could never catch
+them, they were too swift and nimble. Yet he knew they were there,
+because, on a backward glance, he saw the snow mounds surge as
+they grovelled flatlings out of sight; he saw the trees reel as
+they screwed themselves rigid past recognition among the boughs.
+</p>
+<p>And after such glance the stars for awhile returned to
+steadfastness, and an infinite stretch of silence froze upon the
+chill grey world, only deranged by the swift even beat of the
+flying feet, and his own&#8212;slower from the longer stride, and the
+sound of his breath. And for some clear moments he knew that his
+only concern was, to sustain his speed regardless of pain and
+distress, to deny with every nerve he had her power to outstrip
+him or to widen the space between them, till the stars crept up to
+midnight. Then out again would come that crowd invisible, humming
+and hustling behind, dense and dark enough, he knew, to blot out
+the stars at his back, yet ever skipping and jerking from his
+sight.
+</p>
+<p>A hideous check came to the race. White Fell swirled about and
+leapt to the right, and Christian, unprepared for so prompt a
+lurch, found close at his feet a deep pit yawning, and his own
+impetus past control. But he snatched at her as he bore past,
+clasping her right arm with his one whole hand, and the two swung
+together upon the brink.
+</p>
+<p>And her straining away in self preservation was vigorous enough to
+counter-balance his headlong impulse, and brought them reeling
+together to safety.
+</p>
+<p>Then, before he was verily sure that they were not to perish so,
+crashing down, he saw her gnashing in wild pale fury as she
+wrenched to be free; and since her right hand was in his grasp,
+used her axe left-handed, striking back at him.
+</p>
+<p>The blow was effectual enough even so; his right arm dropped
+powerless, gashed, and with the lesser bone broken, that jarred
+with horrid pain when he let it swing as he leaped out again, and
+ran to recover the few feet she had gained from his pause at the
+shock.
+</p>
+<p>The near escape and this new quick pain made again every faculty
+alive and intense. He knew that what he followed was most surely
+Death animate: wounded and helpless, he was utterly at her mercy
+if so she should realise and take action. Hopeless to avenge,
+hopeless to save, his very despair for Sweyn swept him on to
+follow, and follow, and precede the kiss-doomed to death. Could he
+yet fail to hunt that Thing past midnight, out of the womanly form
+alluring and treacherous, into lasting restraint of the bestial,
+which was the last shred of hope left from the confident purpose
+of the outset?
+</p>
+<p>"Sweyn, Sweyn, O Sweyn!" He thought he was praying, though his
+heart wrung out nothing but this: "Sweyn, Sweyn, O Sweyn!"
+</p>
+<p>The last hour from midnight had lost half its quarters, and the
+stars went lifting up the great minutes; and again his greatening
+heart, and his shrinking brain, and the sickening agony that swung
+at either side, conspired to appal the will that had only seeming
+empire over his feet.
+</p>
+<p>Now White Fell's body was so closely enveloped that not a lap nor
+an edge flew free. She stretched forward strangely aslant, leaning
+from the upright poise of a runner. She cleared the ground at
+times by long bounds, gaining an increase of speed that Christian
+agonised to equal.
+</p>
+<p>Because the stars pointed that the end was nearing, the black
+brood came behind again, and followed, noising. Ah! if they could
+but be kept quiet and still, nor slip their usual harmless masks
+to encourage with their interest the last speed of their most
+deadly congener. What shape had they? Should he ever know? If it
+were not that he was bound to compel the fell Thing that ran
+before him into her truer form, he might face about and follow
+them. No&#8212;no&#8212;not so; if he might do anything but what he
+did&#8212;race, race, and racing bear this agony, he would just stand
+still and die, to be quit of the pain of breathing.
+</p>
+<p>He grew bewildered, uncertain of his own identity, doubting of his
+own true form. He could not be really a man, no more than that
+running Thing was really a woman; his real form was only hidden
+under embodiment of a man, but what it was he did not know. And
+Sweyn's real form he did not know. Sweyn lay fallen at his feet,
+where he had struck him down&#8212;his own brother&#8212;he: he stumbled
+over him, and had to overleap him and race harder because she who
+had kissed Sweyn leapt so fast. "Sweyn, Sweyn, O Sweyn!"
+</p>
+<p>Why did the stars stop to shudder? Midnight else had surely come!
+</p>
+<p>The leaning, leaping Thing looked back at him with a wild, fierce
+look, and laughed in savage scorn and triumph. He saw in a flash
+why, for within a time measurable by seconds she would have
+escaped him utterly. As the land lay, a slope of ice sunk on the
+one hand; on the other hand a steep rose, shouldering forwards;
+between the two was space for a foot to be planted, but none for a
+body to stand; yet a juniper bough, thrusting out, gave a handhold
+secure enough for one with a resolute grasp to swing past the
+perilous place, and pass on safe.
+</p>
+<p>Though the first seconds of the last moment were going, she dared
+to flash back a wicked look, and laugh at the pursuer who was
+impotent to grasp.
+</p>
+<div class="figure">
+<a name="finish.png" href="images/finish.png"><img
+ src="images/finish-tn.png" alt="Illustration: The Finish"/></a></div>
+<p>
+The crisis struck convulsive life into his last supreme effort;
+his will surged up indomitable, his speed proved matchless yet. He
+leapt with a rush, passed her before her laugh had time to go out,
+and turned short, barring the way, and braced to withstand her.
+</p>
+<p>She came hurling desperate, with a feint to the right hand, and
+then launched herself upon him with a spring like a wild beast
+when it leaps to kill. And he, with one strong arm and a hand that
+could not hold, with one strong hand and an arm that could not
+guide and sustain, he caught and held her even so. And they fell
+together. And because he felt his whole arm slipping, and his
+whole hand loosing, to slack the dreadful agony of the wrenched
+bone above, he caught and held with his teeth the tunic at her
+knee, as she struggled up and wrung off his hands to overleap him
+victorious.
+</p>
+<p>Like lightning she snatched her axe, and struck him on the neck,
+deep&#8212;once, twice&#8212;his life-blood gushed out, staining her feet.
+</p>
+<p>The stars touched midnight.
+</p>
+<p>The death scream he heard was not his, for his set teeth had
+hardly yet relaxed when it rang out; and the dreadful cry began
+with a woman's shriek, and changed and ended as the yell of a
+beast. And before the final blank overtook his dying eyes, he saw
+that She gave place to It; he saw more, that Life gave place to
+Death&#8212;causelessly, incomprehensibly.
+</p>
+<p>For he did not presume that no holy water could be more holy, more
+potent to destroy an evil thing than the life-blood of a pure
+heart poured out for another in free willing devotion.
+</p>
+<p>His own true hidden reality that he had desired to know grew
+palpable, recognisable. It seemed to him just this: a great glad
+abounding hope that he had saved his brother; too expansive to be
+contained by the limited form of a sole man, it yearned for a new
+embodiment infinite as the stars.
+</p>
+<p>What did it matter to that true reality that the man's brain
+shrank, shrank, till it was nothing; that the man's body could not
+retain the huge pain of his heart, and heaved it out through the
+red exit riven at the neck; that the black noise came again
+hurtling from behind, reinforced by that dissolved shape, and
+blotted out for ever the man's sight, hearing, sense.
+</p>
+<hr width="63%"/>
+<p>In the early grey of day Sweyn chanced upon the footprints of a
+man&#8212;of a runner, as he saw by the shifted snow; and the direction
+they had taken aroused curiosity, since a little farther their
+line must be crossed by the edge of a sheer height. He turned to
+trace them. And so doing, the length of the stride struck his
+attention&#8212;a stride long as his own if he ran. He knew he was
+following Christian.
+</p>
+<p>In his anger he had hardened himself to be indifferent to the
+night-long absence of his brother; but now, seeing where the
+footsteps went, he was seized with compunction and dread. He had
+failed to give thought and care to his poor frantic twin, who
+might&#8212;was it possible?&#8212;have rushed to a frantic death.
+</p>
+<p>His heart stood still when he came to the place where the leap had
+been taken. A piled edge of snow had fallen too, and nothing but
+snow lay below when he peered. Along the upper edge he ran for a
+furlong, till he came to a dip where he could slip and climb down,
+and then back again on the lower level to the pile of fallen snow.
+There he saw that the vigorous running had started afresh.
+</p>
+<p>He stood pondering; vexed that any man should have taken that leap
+where he had not ventured to follow; vexed that he had been
+beguiled to such painful emotions; guessing vainly at Christian's
+object in this mad freak. He began sauntering along, half
+unconsciously following his brother's track; and so in a while he
+came to the place where the footprints were doubled.
+</p>
+<p>Small prints were these others, small as a woman's, though the
+pace from one to another was longer than that which the skirts of
+women allow.
+</p>
+<p>Did not White Fell tread so?
+</p>
+<p>A dreadful guess appalled him, so dreadful that he recoiled from
+belief. Yet his face grew ashy white, and he gasped to fetch back
+motion to his checked heart. Unbelievable? Closer attention showed
+how the smaller footfall had altered for greater speed, striking
+into the snow with a deeper onset and a lighter pressure on the
+heels. Unbelievable? Could any woman but White Fell run so? Could
+any man but Christian run so? The guess became a certainty. He was
+following where alone in the dark night White Fell had fled from
+Christian pursuing.
+</p>
+<p>Such villainy set heart and brain on fire with rage and
+indignation: such villainy in his own brother, till lately
+love-worthy, praiseworthy, though a fool for meekness. He would
+kill Christian; had he lives many as the footprints he had trodden,
+vengeance should demand them all. In a tempest of murderous hate
+he followed on in haste, for the track was plain enough, starting
+with such a burst of speed as could not be maintained, but brought
+him back soon to a plod for the spent, sobbing breath to be
+regulated. He cursed Christian aloud and called White Fell's name
+on high in a frenzied expense of passion. His grief itself was a
+rage, being such an intolerable anguish of pity and shame at the
+thought of his love, White Fell, who had parted from his kiss free
+and radiant, to be hounded straightway by his brother mad with
+jealousy, fleeing for more than life while her lover was housed at
+his ease. If he had but known, he raved, in impotent rebellion at
+the cruelty of events, if he had but known that his strength and
+love might have availed in her defence; now the only service to
+her that he could render was to kill Christian.
+</p>
+<p>As a woman he knew she was matchless in speed, matchless in
+strength; but Christian was matchless in speed among men, nor
+easily to be matched in strength. Brave and swift and strong
+though she were, what chance had she against a man of his strength
+and inches, frantic, too, and intent on horrid revenge against his
+brother, his successful rival?
+</p>
+<p>Mile after mile he followed with a bursting heart; more piteous,
+more tragic, seemed the case at this evidence of White Fell's
+splendid supremacy, holding her own so long against Christian's
+famous speed. So long, so long that his love and admiration grew
+more and more boundless, and his grief and indignation therewith
+also. Whenever the track lay clear he ran, with such reckless
+prodigality of strength, that it soon was spent, and he dragged on
+heavily, till, sometimes on the ice of a mere, sometimes on a
+wind-swept place, all signs were lost; but, so undeviating had
+been their line that a course straight on, and then short questing
+to either hand, recovered them again.
+</p>
+<p>Hour after hour had gone by through more than half that winter
+day, before ever he came to the place where the trampled snow
+showed that a scurry of feet had come&#8212;and gone! Wolves' feet&#8212;and
+gone most amazingly! Only a little beyond he came to the lopped
+point of Christian's bear-spear; farther on he would see where the
+remnant of the useless shaft had been dropped. The snow here was
+dashed with blood, and the footsteps of the two had fallen closer
+together. Some hoarse sound of exultation came from him that might
+have been a laugh had breath sufficed. "O White Fell, my poor,
+brave love! Well struck!" he groaned, torn by his pity and great
+admiration, as he guessed surely how she had turned and dealt a
+blow.
+</p>
+<p>The sight of the blood inflamed him as it might a beast that
+ravens. He grew mad with a desire to have Christian by the throat
+once again, not to loose this time till he had crushed out his
+life, or beat out his life, or stabbed out his life; or all these,
+and torn him piecemeal likewise: and ah! then, not till then,
+bleed his heart with weeping, like a child, like a girl, over the
+piteous fate of his poor lost love.
+</p>
+<p>On&#8212;on&#8212;on&#8212;through the aching time, toiling and straining in the
+track of those two superb runners, aware of the marvel of their
+endurance, but unaware of the marvel of their speed, that, in the
+three hours before midnight had overpassed all that vast distance
+that he could only traverse from twilight to twilight. For clear
+daylight was passing when he came to the edge of an old marl-pit,
+and saw how the two who had gone before had stamped and trampled
+together in desperate peril on the verge. And here fresh blood
+stains spoke to him of a valiant defence against his infamous
+brother; and he followed where the blood had dripped till the cold
+had staunched its flow, taking a savage gratification from this
+evidence that Christian had been gashed deeply, maddening afresh
+with desire to do likewise more excellently, and so slake his
+murderous hate. And he began to know that through all his despair
+he had entertained a germ of hope, that grew apace, rained upon by
+his brother's blood.
+</p>
+<p>He strove on as best he might, wrung now by an access of hope, now
+of despair, in agony to reach the end, however terrible, sick with
+the aching of the toiled miles that deferred it.
+</p>
+<p>And the light went lingering out of the sky, giving place to
+uncertain stars.
+</p>
+<p>He came to the finish.
+</p>
+<p>Two bodies lay in a narrow place. Christian's was one, but the
+other beyond not White Fell's. There where the footsteps ended lay
+a great white wolf.
+</p>
+<p>At the sight Sweyn's strength was blasted; body and soul he was
+struck down grovelling.
+</p>
+<p>The stars had grown sure and intense before he stirred from where
+he had dropped prone. Very feebly he crawled to his dead brother,
+and laid his hands upon him, and crouched so, afraid to look or
+stir farther.
+</p>
+<p>Cold, stiff, hours dead. Yet the dead body was his only shelter
+and stay in that most dreadful hour. His soul, stripped bare of
+all sceptic comfort, cowered, shivering, naked, abject; and the
+living clung to the dead out of piteous need for grace from the
+soul that had passed away.
+</p>
+<p>He rose to his knees, lifting the body. Christian had fallen face
+forward in the snow, with his arms flung up and wide, and so had
+the frost made him rigid: strange, ghastly, unyielding to Sweyn's
+lifting, so that he laid him down again and crouched above, with
+his arms fast round him, and a low heart-wrung groan.
+</p>
+<div class="figure">
+<a name="finding.png" href="images/finding.png"><img
+ src="images/finding-tn.png" alt="Illustration: Sweyn's Finding"/></a></div>
+<p>
+When at last he found force to raise his brother's body and gather
+it in his arms, tight clasped to his breast, he tried to face the
+Thing that lay beyond. The sight set his limbs in a palsy with
+horror and dread. His senses had failed and fainted in utter
+cowardice, but for the strength that came from holding dead
+Christian in his arms, enabling him to compel his eyes to endure
+the sight, and take into the brain the complete aspect of the
+Thing. No wound, only blood stains on the feet. The great grim
+jaws had a savage grin, though dead-stiff. And his kiss: he could
+bear it no longer, and turned away, nor ever looked again.
+</p>
+<p>And the dead man in his arms, knowing the full horror, had
+followed and faced it for his sake; had suffered agony and death
+for his sake; in the neck was the deep death gash, one arm and
+both hands were dark with frozen blood, for his sake! Dead he knew
+him, as in life he had not known him, to give the right meed of
+love and worship. Because the outward man lacked perfection and
+strength equal to his, he had taken the love and worship of that
+great pure heart as his due; he, so unworthy in the inner reality,
+so mean, so despicable, callous, and contemptuous towards the
+brother who had laid down his life to save him. He longed for
+utter annihilation, that so he might lose the agony of knowing
+himself so unworthy such perfect love. The frozen calm of death on
+the face appalled him. He dared not touch it with lips that had
+cursed so lately, with lips fouled by kiss of the horror that had
+been death.
+</p>
+<p>He struggled to his feet, still clasping Christian. The dead man
+stood upright within his arm, frozen rigid. The eyes were not
+quite closed; the head had stiffened, bowed slightly to one side;
+the arms stayed straight and wide. It was the figure of one
+crucified, the blood-stained hands also conforming.
+</p>
+<p>So living and dead went back along the track that one had passed
+in the deepest passion of love, and one in the deepest passion of
+hate. All that night Sweyn toiled through the snow, bearing the
+weight of dead Christian, treading back along the steps he before
+had trodden, when he was wronging with vilest thoughts, and
+cursing with murderous hatred, the brother who all the while lay
+dead for his sake.
+</p>
+<p>Cold, silence, darkness encompassed the strong man bowed with the
+dolorous burden; and yet he knew surely that that night he entered
+hell, and trod hell-fire along the homeward road, and endured
+through it only because Christian was with him. And he knew surely
+that to him Christian had been as Christ, and had suffered and
+died to save him from his sins.
+</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13131 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
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+<html>
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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Were-Wolf, by Clemence Housman</title>
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+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Were-Wolf, by Clemence Housman,
+Illustrated by Laurence Housman</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: The Were-Wolf</p>
+<p>Author: Clemence Housman</p>
+<p>Release Date: August 7, 2004  [eBook #13131]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WERE-WOLF***</p>
+<br />
+<br />
+<h3>E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Hagen von Eitzen,<br />
+    and Project Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders</h3>
+<br />
+<br />
+<hr class="full" />
+<br />
+<br />
+<h2>THE WERE-WOLF</h2>
+<h3>by</h3>
+<h2>Clemence Housman</h2>
+<h3>Illustrations by Laurence Housman</h3>
+<h4>1896</h4>
+<hr width="38%"/>
+<div class="figure"><a name="front.png" href="images/front.png"><img
+ src="images/front-tn.png" alt="Illustration: Holy Water"/></a></div>
+<hr width="38%"/>
+<div class="figure"><img src="images/initial.gif"
+ alt="THE WERE-WOLF / BY CLEMENCE HOUSMAN / WITH SIX ILLUSTRATIONS / BY LAURENCE HOUSMAN // LONDON: JOHN LANE / AT THE BODLEY HEAD / CHICAGO: WAY AND / WILLIAMS 1896"/></div>
+<hr width="38%"/>
+<p class="front"><big>TO THE DEAR MEMORY OF<br/>
+E.W.P.
+</big></p>
+<p class="front">"YOU WILL THINK OF ME SOMETIMES,<br/>
+MY DEAR?"
+</p>
+<hr width="38%"/>
+<h2>LIST OF PLATES</h2>
+<div style="margin-left: 38%; margin-right: 38%;">
+<p class="straight"><a href="#front.png">Holy Water</a><br/>
+<a href="#rolwship.png">Rol's Worship</a><br/>
+<a href="#wfescape.png">White Fell's Escape</a><br/>
+<a href="#race.png">The Race</a><br/>
+<a href="#finish.png">The Finish</a><br/>
+<a href="#finding.png">Sweyn's Finding</a><br/>
+</p>
+</div>
+<hr width="38%"/>
+<h1>THE WERE-WOLF</h1>
+<p>
+The great farm hall was ablaze with the fire-light, and noisy with
+laughter and talk and many-sounding work. None could be idle but
+the very young and the very old: little Rol, who was hugging a
+puppy, and old Trella, whose palsied hand fumbled over her
+knitting. The early evening had closed in, and the farm-servants,
+come from their outdoor work, had assembled in the ample hall,
+which gave space for a score or more of workers. Several of the
+men were engaged in carving, and to these were yielded the best
+place and light; others made or repaired fishing-tackle and
+harness, and a great seine net occupied three pairs of hands. Of
+the women most were sorting and mixing eider feather and chopping
+straw to add to it. Looms were there, though not in present use,
+but three wheels whirred emulously, and the finest and swiftest
+thread of the three ran between the fingers of the house-mistress.
+Near her were some children, busy too, plaiting wicks for candles
+and lamps. Each group of workers had a lamp in its centre, and
+those farthest from the fire had live heat from two braziers
+filled with glowing wood embers, replenished now and again from
+the generous hearth. But the flicker of the great fire was
+manifest to remotest corners, and prevailed beyond the limits of
+the weaker lights.
+</p>
+<p>Little Rol grew tired of his puppy, dropped it incontinently, and
+made an onslaught on Tyr, the old wolf-hound, who basked dozing,
+whimpering and twitching in his hunting dreams. Prone went Rol
+beside Tyr, his young arms round the shaggy neck, his curls
+against the black jowl. Tyr gave a perfunctory lick, and stretched
+with a sleepy sigh. Rol growled and rolled and shoved invitingly,
+but could only gain from the old dog placid toleration and a
+half-observant blink. "Take that then!" said Rol, indignant at this
+ignoring of his advances, and sent the puppy sprawling against the
+dignity that disdained him as playmate. The dog took no notice,
+and the child wandered off to find amusement elsewhere.
+</p>
+<p>The baskets of white eider feathers caught his eye far off in a
+distant corner. He slipped under the table, and crept along on
+all-fours, the ordinary common-place custom of walking down a room
+upright not being to his fancy. When close to the women he lay
+still for a moment watching, with his elbows on the floor and his
+chin in his palms. One of the women seeing him nodded and smiled,
+and presently he crept out behind her skirts and passed, hardly
+noticed, from one to another, till he found opportunity to possess
+himself of a large handful of feathers. With these he traversed
+the length of the room, under the table again, and emerged near
+the spinners. At the feet of the youngest he curled himself round,
+sheltered by her knees from the observation of the others, and
+disarmed her of interference by secretly displaying his handful
+with a confiding smile. A dubious nod satisfied him, and presently
+he started on the play he had devised. He took a tuft of the white
+down, and gently shook it free of his fingers close to the whirl
+of the wheel. The wind of the swift motion took it, spun it round
+and round in widening circles, till it floated above like a slow
+white moth. Little Rol's eyes danced, and the row of his small
+teeth shone in a silent laugh of delight. Another and another of
+the white tufts was sent whirling round like a winged thing in a
+spider's web, and floating clear at last. Presently the handful
+failed.
+</p>
+<p>Rol sprawled forward to survey the room, and contemplate another
+journey under the table. His shoulder, thrusting forward, checked
+the wheel for an instant; he shifted hastily. The wheel flew on
+with a jerk, and the thread snapped. "Naughty Rol!" said the girl.
+The swiftest wheel stopped also, and the house-mistress, Rol's
+aunt, leaned forward, and sighting the low curly head, gave a
+warning against mischief, and sent him off to old Trella's corner.
+</p>
+<p>Rol obeyed, and after a discreet period of obedience, sidled out
+again down the length of the room farthest from his aunt's eye. As
+he slipped in among the men, they looked up to see that their
+tools might be, as far as possible, out of reach of Rol's hands,
+and close to their own. Nevertheless, before long he managed to
+secure a fine chisel and take off its point on the leg of the
+table. The carver's strong objections to this disconcerted Rol,
+who for five minutes thereafter effaced himself under the table.
+</p>
+<p>During this seclusion he contemplated the many pairs of legs that
+surrounded him, and almost shut out the light of the fire. How
+very odd some of the legs were: some were curved where they should
+be straight, some were straight where they should be curved, and,
+as Rol said to himself, "they all seemed screwed on differently."
+Some were tucked away modestly under the benches, others were
+thrust far out under the table, encroaching on Rol's own
+particular domain. He stretched out his own short legs and
+regarded them critically, and, after comparison, favourably. Why
+were not all legs made like his, or like <i>his</i>?
+</p>
+<p>These legs approved by Rol were a little apart from the rest. He
+crawled opposite and again made comparison. His face grew quite
+solemn as he thought of the innumerable days to come before his
+legs could be as long and strong. He hoped they would be just like
+those, his models, as straight as to bone, as curved as to muscle.
+</p>
+<p>A few moments later Sweyn of the long legs felt a small hand
+caressing his foot, and looking down, met the upturned eyes of his
+little cousin Rol. Lying on his back, still softly patting and
+stroking the young man's foot, the child was quiet and happy for a
+good while. He watched the movement of the strong deft hands, and
+the shifting of the bright tools. Now and then, minute chips of
+wood, puffed off by Sweyn, fell down upon his face. At last he
+raised himself, very gently, lest a jog should wake impatience in
+the carver, and crossing his own legs round Sweyn's ankle,
+clasping with his arms too, laid his head against the knee. Such
+act is evidence of a child's most wonderful hero-worship. Quite
+content was Rol, and more than content when Sweyn paused a minute
+to joke, and pat his head and pull his curls. Quiet he remained,
+as long as quiescence is possible to limbs young as his. Sweyn
+forgot he was near, hardly noticed when his leg was gently
+released, and never saw the stealthy abstraction of one of his
+tools.
+</p>
+<div class="figure"><a name="rolwship.png" href="images/rolwship.png"><img
+ src="images/rolwship-tn.png" alt="Illustration: Rol's Worship"/></a></div>
+<p>
+Ten minutes thereafter was a lamentable wail from low on the
+floor, rising to the full pitch of Rol's healthy lungs; for his
+hand was gashed across, and the copious bleeding terrified him.
+Then was there soothing and comforting, washing and binding, and a
+modicum of scolding, till the loud outcry sank into occasional
+sobs, and the child, tear-stained and subdued, was returned to the
+chimney-corner settle, where Trella nodded.
+</p>
+<p>In the reaction after pain and fright, Rol found that the quiet of
+that fire-lit corner was to his mind. Tyr, too, disdained him no
+longer, but, roused by his sobs, showed all the concern and
+sympathy that a dog can by licking and wistful watching. A little
+shame weighed also upon his spirits. He wished he had not cried
+quite so much. He remembered how once Sweyn had come home with his
+arm torn down from the shoulder, and a dead bear; and how he had
+never winced nor said a word, though his lips turned white with
+pain. Poor little Rol gave another sighing sob over his own
+faint-hearted shortcomings.
+</p>
+<p>The light and motion of the great fire began to tell strange
+stories to the child, and the wind in the chimney roared a
+corroborative note now and then. The great black mouth of the
+chimney, impending high over the hearth, received as into a
+mysterious gulf murky coils of smoke and brightness of aspiring
+sparks; and beyond, in the high darkness, were muttering and
+wailing and strange doings, so that sometimes the smoke rushed
+back in panic, and curled out and up to the roof, and condensed
+itself to invisibility among the rafters. And then the wind would
+rage after its lost prey, and rush round the house, rattling and
+shrieking at window and door.
+</p>
+<p>In a lull, after one such loud gust, Rol lifted his head in
+surprise and listened. A lull had also come on the babel of talk,
+and thus could be heard with strange distinctness a sound outside
+the door&#8212;the sound of a child's voice, a child's hands. "Open,
+open; let me in!" piped the little voice from low down, lower than
+the handle, and the latch rattled as though a tiptoe child reached
+up to it, and soft small knocks were struck. One near the door
+sprang up and opened it. "No one is here," he said. Tyr lifted his
+head and gave utterance to a howl, loud, prolonged, most dismal.
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn, not able to believe that his ears had deceived him, got up
+and went to the door. It was a dark night; the clouds were heavy
+with snow, that had fallen fitfully when the wind lulled.
+Untrodden snow lay up to the porch; there was no sight nor sound
+of any human being. Sweyn strained his eyes far and near, only to
+see dark sky, pure snow, and a line of black fir trees on a hill
+brow, bowing down before the wind. "It must have been the wind,"
+he said, and closed the door.
+</p>
+<p>Many faces looked scared. The sound of a child's voice had been so
+distinct&#8212;and the words "Open, open; let me in!" The wind might
+creak the wood, or rattle the latch, but could not speak with a
+child's voice, nor knock with the soft plain blows that a plump
+fist gives. And the strange unusual howl of the wolf-hound was an
+omen to be feared, be the rest what it might. Strange things were
+said by one and another, till the rebuke of the house-mistress
+quelled them into far-off whispers. For a time after there was
+uneasiness, constraint, and silence; then the chill fear thawed by
+degrees, and the babble of talk flowed on again.
+</p>
+<p>Yet half-an-hour later a very slight noise outside the door
+sufficed to arrest every hand, every tongue. Every head was
+raised, every eye fixed in one direction. "It is Christian; he is
+late," said Sweyn.
+</p>
+<p>No, no; this is a feeble shuffle, not a young man's tread. With
+the sound of uncertain feet came the hard tap-tap of a stick
+against the door, and the high-pitched voice of eld, "Open, open;
+let me in!" Again Tyr flung up his head in a long doleful howl.
+</p>
+<p>Before the echo of the tapping stick and the high voice had fairly
+died away, Sweyn had sprung across to the door and flung it wide.
+"No one again," he said in a steady voice, though his eyes looked
+startled as he stared out. He saw the lonely expanse of snow, the
+clouds swagging low, and between the two the line of dark
+fir-trees bowing in the wind. He closed the door without a word of
+comment, and re-crossed the room.
+</p>
+<p>A score of blanched faces were turned to him as though he must be
+solver of the enigma. He could not be unconscious of this mute
+eye-questioning, and it disturbed his resolute air of composure.
+He hesitated, glanced towards his mother, the house-mistress, then
+back at the frightened folk, and gravely, before them all, made
+the sign of the cross. There was a flutter of hands as the sign
+was repeated by all, and the dead silence was stirred as by a huge
+sigh, for the held breath of many was freed as though the sign
+gave magic relief.
+</p>
+<p>Even the house-mistress was perturbed. She left her wheel and
+crossed the room to her son, and spoke with him for a moment in a
+low tone that none could overhear. But a moment later her voice
+was high-pitched and loud, so that all might benefit by her rebuke
+of the "heathen chatter" of one of the girls. Perhaps she essayed
+to silence thus her own misgivings and forebodings.
+</p>
+<p>No other voice dared speak now with its natural fulness. Low tones
+made intermittent murmurs, and now and then silence drifted over
+the whole room. The handling of tools was as noiseless as might
+be, and suspended on the instant if the door rattled in a gust of
+wind. After a time Sweyn left his work, joined the group nearest
+the door, and loitered there on the pretence of giving advice and
+help to the unskilful.
+</p>
+<p>A man's tread was heard outside in the porch. "Christian!" said
+Sweyn and his mother simultaneously, he confidently, she
+authoritatively, to set the checked wheels going again. But Tyr
+flung up his head with an appalling howl.
+</p>
+<p>"Open, open; let me in!"
+</p>
+<p>It was a man's voice, and the door shook and rattled as a man's
+strength beat against it. Sweyn could feel the planks quivering,
+as on the instant his hand was upon the door, flinging it open, to
+face the blank porch, and beyond only snow and sky, and firs
+aslant in the wind.
+</p>
+<p>He stood for a long minute with the open door in his hand. The
+bitter wind swept in with its icy chill, but a deadlier chill of
+fear came swifter, and seemed to freeze the beating of hearts.
+Sweyn stepped back to snatch up a great bearskin cloak.
+</p>
+<p>"Sweyn, where are you going?"
+</p>
+<p>"No farther than the porch, mother," and he stepped out and closed
+the door.
+</p>
+<p>He wrapped himself in the heavy fur, and leaning against the most
+sheltered wall of the porch, steeled his nerves to face the devil
+and all his works. No sound of voices came from within; the most
+distinct sound was the crackle and roar of the fire.
+</p>
+<p>It was bitterly cold. His feet grew numb, but he forbore stamping
+them into warmth lest the sound should strike panic within; nor
+would he leave the porch, nor print a foot-mark on the untrodden
+white that declared so absolutely how no human voices and hands
+could have approached the door since snow fell two hours or more
+ago. "When the wind drops there will be more snow," thought Sweyn.
+</p>
+<p>For the best part of an hour he kept his watch, and saw no living
+thing&#8212;heard no unwonted sound. "I will freeze here no longer," he
+muttered, and re-entered.
+</p>
+<p>One woman gave a half-suppressed scream as his hand was laid on
+the latch, and then a gasp of relief as he came in. No one
+questioned him, only his mother said, in a tone of forced
+unconcern, "Could you not see Christian coming?" as though she
+were made anxious only by the absence of her younger son. Hardly
+had Sweyn stamped near to the fire than clear knocking was heard
+at the door. Tyr leapt from the hearth, his eyes red as the fire,
+his fangs showing white in the black jowl, his neck ridged and
+bristling; and overleaping Rol, ramped at the door, barking
+furiously.
+</p>
+<p>Outside the door a clear mellow voice was calling. Tyr's bark made
+the words undistinguishable.
+No one offered to stir towards the door before Sweyn.
+</p>
+<p>He stalked down the room resolutely, lifted the latch, and swung
+back the door.
+</p>
+<p>A white-robed woman glided in.
+</p>
+<p>No wraith! Living&#8212;beautiful&#8212;young.
+</p>
+<p>Tyr leapt upon her.
+</p>
+<p>Lithely she baulked the sharp fangs with folds of her long fur
+robe, and snatching from her girdle a small two-edged axe, whirled
+it up for a blow of defence.
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn caught the dog by the collar, and dragged him off yelling
+and struggling.
+</p>
+<p>The stranger stood in the doorway motionless, one foot set
+forward, one arm flung up, till the house-mistress hurried down
+the room; and Sweyn, relinquishing to others the furious Tyr,
+turned again to close the door, and offer excuse for so fierce a
+greeting. Then she lowered her arm, slung the axe in its place at
+her waist, loosened the furs about her face, and shook over her
+shoulders the long white robe&#8212;all as it were with the sway of one
+movement.
+</p>
+<p>She was a maiden, tall and very fair. The fashion of her dress was
+strange, half masculine, yet not unwomanly. A fine fur tunic,
+reaching but little below the knee, was all the skirt she wore;
+below were the cross-bound shoes and leggings that a hunter wears.
+A white fur cap was set low upon the brows, and from its edge
+strips of fur fell lappet-wise about her shoulders; two of these
+at her entrance had been drawn forward and crossed about her
+throat, but now, loosened and thrust back, left unhidden long
+plaits of fair hair that lay forward on shoulder and breast, down
+to the ivory-studded girdle where the axe gleamed.
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn and his mother led the stranger to the hearth without
+question or sign of curiosity, till she voluntarily told her tale
+of a long journey to distant kindred, a promised guide unmet, and
+signals and landmarks mistaken.
+</p>
+<p>"Alone!" exclaimed Sweyn in astonishment. "Have you journeyed thus
+far, a hundred leagues, alone?"
+</p>
+<p>She answered "Yes" with a little smile.
+</p>
+<p>"Over the hills and the wastes! Why, the folk there are savage and
+wild as beasts."
+</p>
+<p>She dropped her hand upon her axe with a laugh of some scorn.
+</p>
+<p>"I fear neither man nor beast; some few fear me." And then she
+told strange tales of fierce attack and defence, and of the bold
+free huntress life she had led.
+</p>
+<p>Her words came a little slowly and deliberately, as though she
+spoke in a scarce familiar tongue; now and then she hesitated, and
+stopped in a phrase, as though for lack of some word.
+</p>
+<p>She became the centre of a group of listeners. The interest she
+excited dissipated, in some degree, the dread inspired by the
+mysterious voices. There was nothing ominous about this young,
+bright, fair reality, though her aspect was strange.
+</p>
+<p>Little Rol crept near, staring at the stranger with all his might.
+Unnoticed, he softly stroked and patted a corner of her soft white
+robe that reached to the floor in ample folds. He laid his cheek
+against it caressingly, and then edged up close to her knees.
+</p>
+<p>"What is your name?" he asked.
+</p>
+<p>The stranger's smile and ready answer, as she looked down, saved
+Rol from the rebuke merited by his unmannerly question.
+</p>
+<p>"My real name," she said, "would be uncouth to your ears and
+tongue. The folk of this country have given me another name, and
+from this" (she laid her hand on the fur robe) "they call me
+'White Fell.'"
+</p>
+<p>Little Rol repeated it to himself, stroking and patting as before.
+"White Fell, White Fell."
+</p>
+<p>The fair face, and soft, beautiful dress pleased Rol. He knelt up,
+with his eyes on her face and an air of uncertain determination,
+like a robin's on a doorstep, and plumped his elbows into her lap
+with a little gasp at his own audacity.
+</p>
+<p>"Rol!" exclaimed his aunt; but, "Oh, let him!" said White Fell,
+smiling and stroking his head; and Rol stayed.
+</p>
+<p>He advanced farther, and panting at his own adventurousness in the
+face of his aunt's authority, climbed up on to her knees. Her
+welcoming arms hindered any protest. He nestled happily, fingering
+the axe head, the ivory studs in her girdle, the ivory clasp at
+her throat, the plaits of fair hair; rubbing his head against the
+softness of her fur-clad shoulder, with a child's full confidence
+in the kindness of beauty.
+</p>
+<p>White Fell had not uncovered her head, only knotted the pendant
+fur loosely behind her neck. Rol reached up his hand towards it,
+whispering her name to himself, "White Fell, White Fell," then
+slid his arms round her neck, and kissed her&#8212;once&#8212;twice. She
+laughed delightedly, and kissed him again.
+</p>
+<p>"The child plagues you?" said Sweyn.
+</p>
+<p>"No, indeed," she answered, with an earnestness so intense as to
+seem disproportionate to the occasion.
+</p>
+<p>Rol settled himself again on her lap, and began to unwind the
+bandage bound round his hand. He paused a little when he saw where
+the blood had soaked through; then went on till his hand was bare
+and the cut displayed, gaping and long, though only skin deep. He
+held it up towards White Fell, desirous of her pity and sympathy.
+</p>
+<p>At sight of it, and the blood-stained linen, she drew in her
+breath suddenly, clasped Rol to her&#8212;hard, hard&#8212;till he began to
+struggle. Her face was hidden behind the boy, so that none could
+see its expression. It had lighted up with a most awful glee.
+</p>
+<p>Afar, beyond the fir-grove, beyond the low hill behind, the absent
+Christian was hastening his return. From daybreak he had been
+afoot, carrying notice of a bear hunt to all the best hunters of
+the farms and hamlets that lay within a radius of twelve miles.
+Nevertheless, having been detained till a late hour, he now broke
+into a run, going with a long smooth stride of apparent ease that
+fast made the miles diminish.
+</p>
+<p>He entered the midnight blackness of the fir-grove with scarcely
+slackened pace, though the path was invisible; and passing through
+into the open again, sighted the farm lying a furlong off down the
+slope. Then he sprang out freely, and almost on the instant gave
+one great sideways leap, and stood still. There in the snow was
+the track of a great wolf.
+</p>
+<p>His hand went to his knife, his only weapon. He stooped, knelt
+down, to bring his eyes to the level of a beast, and peered about;
+his teeth set, his heart beat a little harder than the pace of his
+running insisted on. A solitary wolf, nearly always savage and of
+large size, is a formidable beast that will not hesitate to attack
+a single man. This wolf-track was the largest Christian had ever
+seen, and, so far as he could judge, recently made. It led from
+under the fir-trees down the slope. Well for him, he thought, was
+the delay that had so vexed him before: well for him that he had
+not passed through the dark fir-grove when that danger of jaws
+lurked there. Going warily, he followed the track.
+</p>
+<p>It led down the slope, across a broad ice-bound stream, along the
+level beyond, making towards the farm. A less precise knowledge
+had doubted, and guessed that here might have come straying big
+Tyr or his like; but Christian was sure, knowing better than to
+mistake between footmark of dog and wolf.
+</p>
+<p>Straight on&#8212;straight on towards the farm.
+</p>
+<p>Surprised and anxious grew Christian, that a prowling wolf should
+dare so near. He drew his knife and pressed on, more hastily, more
+keen-eyed. Oh that Tyr were with him!
+</p>
+<p>Straight on, straight on, even to the very door, where the snow
+failed. His heart seemed to give a great leap and then stop. There
+the track <i>ended</i>.
+</p>
+<p>Nothing lurked in the porch, and there was no sign of return. The
+firs stood straight against the sky, the clouds lay low; for the
+wind had fallen and a few snowflakes came drifting down. In a
+horror of surprise, Christian stood dazed a moment: then he lifted
+the latch and went in. His glance took in all the old familiar
+forms and faces, and with them that of the stranger, fur-clad and
+beautiful. The awful truth flashed upon him: he knew what she was.
+</p>
+<p>Only a few were startled by the rattle of the latch as he entered.
+The room was filled with bustle and movement, for it was the
+supper hour, when all tools were laid aside, and trestles and
+tables shifted. Christian had no knowledge of what he said and
+did; he moved and spoke mechanically, half thinking that soon he
+must wake from this horrible dream. Sweyn and his mother supposed
+him to be cold and dead-tired, and spared all unnecessary
+questions. And he found himself seated beside the hearth, opposite
+that dreadful Thing that looked like a beautiful girl; watching
+her every movement, curdling with horror to see her fondle the
+child Rol.
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn stood near them both, intent upon White Fell also; but how
+differently! She seemed unconscious of the gaze of both&#8212;neither
+aware of the chill dread in the eyes of Christian, nor of Sweyn's
+warm admiration.
+</p>
+<p>These two brothers, who were twins, contrasted greatly, despite
+their striking likeness. They were alike in regular profile, fair
+brown hair, and deep blue eyes; but Sweyn's features were perfect
+as a young god's, while Christian's showed faulty details. Thus,
+the line of his mouth was set too straight, the eyes shelved too
+deeply back, and the contour of the face flowed in less generous
+curves than Sweyn's. Their height was the same, but Christian was
+too slender for perfect proportion, while Sweyn's well-knit frame,
+broad shoulders, and muscular arms, made him pre-eminent for manly
+beauty as well as for strength. As a hunter Sweyn was without
+rival; as a fisher without rival. All the countryside acknowledged
+him to be the best wrestler, rider, dancer, singer. Only in speed
+could he be surpassed, and in that only by his younger brother.
+All others Sweyn could distance fairly; but Christian could outrun
+him easily. Ay, he could keep pace with Sweyn's most breathless
+burst, and laugh and talk the while. Christian took little pride
+in his fleetness of foot, counting a man's legs to be the least
+worthy of his members. He had no envy of his brother's athletic
+superiority, though to several feats he had made a moderate
+second. He loved as only a twin can love&#8212;proud of all that Sweyn
+did, content with all that Sweyn was; humbly content also that his
+own great love should not be so exceedingly returned, since he
+knew himself to be so far less love-worthy.
+</p>
+<p>Christian dared not, in the midst of women and children, launch
+the horror that he knew into words. He waited to consult his
+brother; but Sweyn did not, or would not, notice the signal he
+made, and kept his face always turned towards White Fell.
+Christian drew away from the hearth, unable to remain passive with
+that dread upon him.
+</p>
+<p>"Where is Tyr?" he said suddenly. Then, catching sight of the dog
+in a distant corner, "Why is he chained there?"
+</p>
+<p>"He flew at the stranger," one answered.
+</p>
+<p>Christian's eyes glowed. "Yes?" he said, interrogatively.
+</p>
+<p>"He was within an ace of having his brain knocked out."
+</p>
+<p>"Tyr?"
+</p>
+<p>"Yes; she was nimbly up with that little axe she has at her waist.
+It was well for old Tyr that his master throttled him off."
+</p>
+<p>Christian went without a word to the corner where Tyr was chained.
+The dog rose up to meet him, as piteous and indignant as a dumb
+beast can be. He stroked the black head. "Good Tyr! brave dog!"
+</p>
+<p>They knew, they only; and the man and the dumb dog had comfort of
+each other.
+</p>
+<p>Christian's eyes turned again towards White Fell: Tyr's also, and
+he strained against the length of the chain. Christian's hand lay
+on the dog's neck, and he felt it ridge and bristle with the
+quivering of impotent fury. Then he began to quiver in like
+manner, with a fury born of reason, not instinct; as impotent
+morally as was Tyr physically. Oh! the woman's form that he dare
+not touch! Anything but that, and he with Tyr would be free to
+kill or be killed.
+</p>
+<p>Then he returned to ask fresh questions.
+</p>
+<p>"How long has the stranger been here?"
+</p>
+<p>"She came about half-an-hour before you."
+</p>
+<p>"Who opened the door to her?"
+</p>
+<p>"Sweyn: no one else dared."
+</p>
+<p>The tone of the answer was mysterious.
+</p>
+<p>"Why?" queried Christian. "Has anything strange happened? Tell
+me."
+</p>
+<p>For answer he was told in a low undertone of the summons at the
+door thrice repeated without human agency; and of Tyr's ominous
+howls; and of Sweyn's fruitless watch outside.
+</p>
+<p>Christian turned towards his brother in a torment of impatience
+for a word apart. The board was spread, and Sweyn was leading
+White Fell to the guest's place. This was more awful: she would
+break bread with them under the roof-tree!
+</p>
+<p>He started forward, and touching Sweyn's arm, whispered an urgent
+entreaty. Sweyn stared, and shook his head in angry impatience.
+</p>
+<p>Thereupon Christian would take no morsel of food.
+</p>
+<p>His opportunity came at last. White Fell questioned of the
+landmarks of the country, and of one Cairn Hill, which was an
+appointed meeting-place at which she was due that night. The
+house-mistress and Sweyn both exclaimed.
+</p>
+<p>"It is three long miles away," said Sweyn; "with no place for
+shelter but a wretched hut. Stay with us this night, and I will
+show you the way to-morrow."
+</p>
+<p>White Fell seemed to hesitate. "Three miles," she said; "then I
+should be able to see or hear a signal."
+</p>
+<p>"I will look out," said Sweyn; "then, if there be no signal, you
+must not leave us."
+</p>
+<p>He went to the door. Christian rose silently, and followed him
+out.
+</p>
+<p>"Sweyn, do you know what she is?"
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn, surprised at the vehement grasp, and low hoarse voice, made
+answer:
+</p>
+<p>"She? Who? White Fell?"
+</p>
+<p>"Yes."
+</p>
+<p>"She is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen."
+</p>
+<p>"She is a Were-Wolf."
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn burst out laughing. "Are you mad?" he asked.
+</p>
+<p>"No; here, see for yourself."
+</p>
+<p>Christian drew him out of the porch, pointing to the snow where
+the footmarks had been. Had been, for now they were not. Snow was
+falling fast, and every dint was blotted out.
+</p>
+<p>"Well?" asked Sweyn.
+</p>
+<p>"Had you come when I signed to you, you would have seen for
+yourself."
+</p>
+<p>"Seen what?"
+</p>
+<p>"The footprints of a wolf leading up to the door; none leading
+away."
+</p>
+<p>It was impossible not to be startled by the tone alone, though it
+was hardly above a whisper. Sweyn eyed his brother anxiously, but
+in the darkness could make nothing of his face. Then he laid his
+hands kindly and re-assuringly on Christian's shoulders and felt
+how he was quivering with excitement and horror.
+</p>
+<p>"One sees strange things," he said, "when the cold has got into
+the brain behind the eyes; you came in cold and worn out."
+</p>
+<p>"No," interrupted Christian. "I saw the track first on the brow of
+the slope, and followed it down right here to the door. This is no
+delusion."
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn in his heart felt positive that it was. Christian was given
+to day-dreams and strange fancies, though never had he been
+possessed with so mad a notion before.
+</p>
+<p>"Don't you believe me?" said Christian desperately. "You must. I
+swear it is sane truth. Are you blind? Why, even Tyr knows."
+</p>
+<p>"You will be clearer headed to-morrow after a night's rest. Then
+come too, if you will, with White Fell, to the Hill Cairn; and if
+you have doubts still, watch and follow, and see what footprints
+she leaves."
+</p>
+<p>Galled by Sweyn's evident contempt Christian turned abruptly to
+the door. Sweyn caught him back.
+</p>
+<p>"What now, Christian? What are you going to do?"
+</p>
+<p>"You do not believe me; my mother shall."
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn's grasp tightened. "You shall not tell her," he said
+authoritatively.
+</p>
+<p>Customarily Christian was so docile to his brother's mastery that
+it was now a surprising thing when he wrenched himself free
+vigorously, and said as determinedly as Sweyn, "She shall know!"
+but Sweyn was nearer the door and would not let him pass.
+</p>
+<p>"There has been scare enough for one night already. If this notion
+of yours will keep, broach it to-morrow." Christian would not
+yield.
+</p>
+<p>"Women are so easily scared," pursued Sweyn, "and are ready to
+believe any folly without shadow of proof. Be a man, Christian,
+and fight this notion of a Were-Wolf by yourself."
+</p>
+<p>"If you would believe me," began Christian.
+</p>
+<p>"I believe you to be a fool," said Sweyn, losing patience.
+"Another, who was not your brother, might believe you to be a
+knave, and guess that you had transformed White Fell into a
+Were-Wolf because she smiled more readily on me than on you."
+</p>
+<p>The jest was not without foundation, for the grace of White Fell's
+bright looks had been bestowed on him, on Christian never a whit.
+Sweyn's coxcombery was always frank, and most forgiveable, and not
+without fair colour.
+</p>
+<p>"If you want an ally," continued Sweyn, "confide in old Trella.
+Out of her stores of wisdom, if her memory holds good, she can
+instruct you in the orthodox manner of tackling a Were-Wolf. If I
+remember aright, you should watch the suspected person till
+midnight, when the beast's form must be resumed, and retained ever
+after if a human eye sees the change; or, better still, sprinkle
+hands and feet with holy water, which is certain death. Oh! never
+fear, but old Trella will be equal to the occasion."
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn's contempt was no longer good-humoured; some touch of
+irritation or resentment rose at this monstrous doubt of White
+Fell. But Christian was too deeply distressed to take offence.
+</p>
+<p>"You speak of them as old wives' tales; but if you had seen the
+proof I have seen, you would be ready at least to wish them true,
+if not also to put them to the test."
+</p>
+<p>"Well," said Sweyn, with a laugh that had a little sneer in it,
+"put them to the test! I will not object to that, if you will only
+keep your notions to yourself. Now, Christian, give me your word
+for silence, and we will freeze here no longer."
+</p>
+<p>Christian remained silent.
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn put his hands on his shoulders again and vainly tried to see
+his face in the darkness.
+</p>
+<p>"We have never quarrelled yet, Christian?"
+</p>
+<p>"I have never quarrelled," returned the other, aware for the first
+time that his dictatorial brother had sometimes offered occasion
+for quarrel, had he been ready to take it.
+</p>
+<p>"Well," said Sweyn emphatically, "if you speak against White Fell
+to any other, as to-night you have spoken to me&#8212;we shall."
+</p>
+<p>He delivered the words like an ultimatum, turned sharp round, and
+re-entered the house. Christian, more fearful and wretched than
+before, followed.
+</p>
+<p>"Snow is falling fast: not a single light is to be seen."
+</p>
+<p>White Fell's eyes passed over Christian without apparent notice,
+and turned bright and shining upon Sweyn.
+</p>
+<p>"Nor any signal to be heard?" she queried. "Did you not hear the
+sound of a sea-horn?"
+</p>
+<p>"I saw nothing, and heard nothing; and signal or no signal, the
+heavy snow would keep you here perforce."
+</p>
+<p>She smiled her thanks beautifully. And Christian's heart sank like
+lead with a deadly foreboding, as he noted what a light was
+kindled in Sweyn's eyes by her smile.
+</p>
+<p>That night, when all others slept, Christian, the weariest of all,
+watched outside the guest-chamber till midnight was past. No
+sound, not the faintest, could be heard. Could the old tale be
+true of the midnight change? What was on the other side of the
+door, a woman or a beast? he would have given his right hand to
+know. Instinctively he laid his hand on the latch, and drew it
+softly, though believing that bolts fastened the inner side. The
+door yielded to his hand; he stood on the threshold; a keen gust
+of air cut at him; the window stood open; the room was empty.
+</p>
+<p>So Christian could sleep with a somewhat lightened heart.
+</p>
+<p>In the morning there was surprise and conjecture when White Fell's
+absence was discovered. Christian held his peace. Not even to his
+brother did he say how he knew that she had fled before midnight;
+and Sweyn, though evidently greatly chagrined, seemed to disdain
+reference to the subject of Christian's fears.
+</p>
+<p>The elder brother alone joined the bear hunt; Christian found
+pretext to stay behind. Sweyn, being out of humour, manifested his
+contempt by uttering not a single expostulation.
+</p>
+<p>All that day, and for many a day after, Christian would never go
+out of sight of his home. Sweyn alone noticed how he man&#339;uvred for
+this, and was clearly annoyed by it. White Fell's name was never
+mentioned between them, though not seldom was it heard in general
+talk. Hardly a day passed but little Rol asked when White Fell
+would come again: pretty White Fell, who kissed like a snowflake.
+And if Sweyn answered, Christian would be quite sure that the
+light in his eyes, kindled by White Fell's smile, had not yet died
+out.
+</p>
+<p>Little Rol! Naughty, merry, fairhaired little Rol. A day came when
+his feet raced over the threshold never to return; when his
+chatter and laugh were heard no more; when tears of anguish were
+wept by eyes that never would see his bright head again: never
+again, living or dead.
+</p>
+<p>He was seen at dusk for the last time, escaping from the house
+with his puppy, in freakish rebellion against old Trella. Later,
+when his absence had begun to cause anxiety, his puppy crept back
+to the farm, cowed, whimpering and yelping, a pitiful, dumb lump
+of terror, without intelligence or courage to guide the frightened
+search.
+</p>
+<p>Rol was never found, nor any trace of him. Where he had perished
+was never known; how he had perished was known only by an awful
+guess&#8212;a wild beast had devoured him.
+</p>
+<p>Christian heard the conjecture "a wolf"; and a horrible certainty
+flashed upon him that he knew what wolf it was. He tried to
+declare what he knew, but Sweyn saw him start at the words with
+white face and struggling lips; and, guessing his purpose, pulled
+him back, and kept him silent, hardly, by his imperious grip and
+wrathful eyes, and one low whisper.
+</p>
+<p>That Christian should retain his most irrational suspicion against
+beautiful White Fell was, to Sweyn, evidence of a weak obstinacy
+of mind that would but thrive upon expostulation and argument. But
+this evident intention to direct the passions of grief and anguish
+to a hatred and fear of the fair stranger, such as his own, was
+intolerable, and Sweyn set his will against it. Again Christian
+yielded to his brother's stronger words and will, and against his
+own judgment consented to silence.
+</p>
+<p>Repentance came before the new moon, the first of the year, was
+old. White Fell came again, smiling as she entered, as though
+assured of a glad and kindly welcome; and, in truth, there was
+only one who saw again her fair face and strange white garb
+without pleasure. Sweyn's face glowed with delight, while
+Christian's grew pale and rigid as death. He had given his word to
+keep silence; but he had not thought that she would dare to come
+again. Silence was impossible, face to face with that Thing,
+impossible. Irrepressibly he cried out:
+</p>
+<p>"Where is Rol?"
+</p>
+<p>Not a quiver disturbed White Fell's face. She heard, yet remained
+bright and tranquil. Sweyn's eyes flashed round at his brother
+dangerously. Among the women some tears fell at the poor child's
+name; but none caught alarm from its sudden utterance, for the
+thought of Rol rose naturally. Where was little Rol, who had
+nestled in the stranger's arms, kissing her; and watched for her
+since; and prattled of her daily?
+</p>
+<p>Christian went out silently. One only thing there was that he
+could do, and he must not delay. His horror overmastered any
+curiosity to hear White Fell's smooth excuses and smiling
+apologies for her strange and uncourteous departure; or her easy
+tale of the circumstances of her return; or to watch her bearing
+as she heard the sad tale of little Rol.
+</p>
+<p>The swiftest runner of the country-side had started on his hardest
+race: little less than three leagues and back, which he reckoned
+to accomplish in two hours, though the night was moonless and the
+way rugged. He rushed against the still cold air till it felt like
+a wind upon his face. The dim homestead sank below the ridges at
+his back, and fresh ridges of snowlands rose out of the obscure
+horizon-level to drive past him as the stirless air drove, and
+sink away behind into obscure level again. He took no conscious
+heed of landmarks, not even when all sign of a path was gone under
+depths of snow. His will was set to reach his goal with unexampled
+speed; and thither by instinct his physical forces bore him,
+without one definite thought to guide.
+</p>
+<p>And the idle brain lay passive, inert, receiving into its vacancy
+restless siftings of past sights and sounds: Rol, weeping,
+laughing, playing, coiled in the arms of that dreadful Thing:
+Tyr&#8212;O Tyr!&#8212;white fangs in the black jowl: the women who wept on
+The foolish puppy, precious for the child's last touch: footprints
+from pine wood to door: the smiling face among furs, of such
+womanly beauty&#8212;smiling&#8212;smiling: and Sweyn's face.
+</p>
+<p>"Sweyn, Sweyn, O Sweyn, my brother!"
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn's angry laugh possessed his ear within the sound of the wind
+of his speed; Sweyn's scorn assailed more quick and keen than the
+biting cold at his throat. And yet he was unimpressed by any
+thought of how Sweyn's anger and scorn would rise, if this errand
+were known.
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn was a sceptic. His utter disbelief in Christian's testimony
+regarding the footprints was based upon positive scepticism. His
+reason refused to bend in accepting the possibility of the
+supernatural materialised. That a living beast could ever be other
+than palpably bestial&#8212;pawed, toothed, shagged, and eared as such,
+was to him incredible; far more that a human presence could be
+transformed from its god-like aspect, upright, free-handed, with
+brows, and speech, and laughter. The wild and fearful legends that
+he had known from childhood and then believed, he regarded now as
+built upon facts distorted, overlaid by imagination, and quickened
+by superstition. Even the strange summons at the threshold, that
+he himself had vainly answered, was, after the first shock of
+surprise, rationally explained by him as malicious foolery on the
+part of some clever trickster, who withheld the key to the enigma.
+</p>
+<p>To the younger brother all life was a spiritual mystery, veiled
+from his clear knowledge by the density of flesh. Since he knew
+his own body to be linked to the complex and antagonistic forces
+that constitute one soul, it seemed to him not impossibly strange
+that one spiritual force should possess divers forms for widely
+various manifestation. Nor, to him, was it great effort to believe
+that as pure water washes away all natural foulness, so water,
+holy by consecration, must needs cleanse God's world from that
+supernatural evil Thing. Therefore, faster than ever man's foot
+had covered those leagues, he sped under the dark, still night,
+over the waste, trackless snow-ridges to the far-away church,
+where salvation lay in the holy-water stoup at the door. His faith
+was as firm as any that wrought miracles in days past, simple as a
+child's wish, strong as a man's will.
+</p>
+<p>He was hardly missed during these hours, every second of which was
+by him fulfilled to its utmost extent by extremest effort that
+sinews and nerves could attain. Within the homestead the while,
+the easy moments went bright with words and looks of unwonted
+animation, for the kindly, hospitable instincts of the inmates
+were roused into cordial expression of welcome and interest by the
+grace and beauty of the returned stranger.
+</p>
+<p>But Sweyn was eager and earnest, with more than a host's courteous
+warmth. The impression that at her first coming had charmed him,
+that had lived since through memory, deepened now in her actual
+presence. Sweyn, the matchless among men, acknowledged in this
+fair White Fell a spirit high and bold as his own, and a frame so
+firm and capable that only bulk was lacking for equal strength.
+Yet the white skin was moulded most smoothly, without such
+muscular swelling as made his might evident. Such love as his
+frank self-love could concede was called forth by an ardent
+admiration for this supreme stranger. More admiration than love
+was in his passion, and therefore he was free from a lover's
+hesitancy and delicate reserve and doubts. Frankly and boldly he
+courted her favour by looks and tones, and an address that came of
+natural ease, needless of skill by practice.
+</p>
+<p>Nor was she a woman to be wooed otherwise. Tender whispers and
+sighs would never gain her ear; but her eyes would brighten and
+shine if she heard of a brave feat, and her prompt hand in
+sympathy fall swiftly on the axe-haft and clasp it hard. That
+movement ever fired Sweyn's admiration anew; he watched for it,
+strove to elicit it, and glowed when it came. Wonderful and
+beautiful was that wrist, slender and steel-strong; also the
+smooth shapely hand, that curved so fast and firm, ready to deal
+instant death.
+</p>
+<p>Desiring to feel the pressure of these hands, this bold lover
+schemed with palpable directness, proposing that she should hear
+how their hunting songs were sung, with a chorus that signalled
+hands to be clasped. So his splendid voice gave the verses, and,
+as the chorus was taken up, he claimed her hands, and, even
+through the easy grip, felt, as he desired, the strength that was
+latent, and the vigour that quickened the very fingertips, as the
+song fired her, and her voice was caught out of her by the
+rhythmic swell, and rang clear on the top of the closing surge.
+</p>
+<p>Afterwards she sang alone. For contrast, or in the pride of
+swaying moods by her voice, she chose a mournful song that drifted
+along in a minor chant, sad as a wind that dirges:
+</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"Oh, let me go!</p>
+<p>Around spin wreaths of snow;</p>
+<p>The dark earth sleeps below.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"Far up the plain</p>
+<p>Moans on a voice of pain:</p>
+<p>'Where shall my babe be lain?'</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"In my white breast</p>
+<p>Lay the sweet life to rest!</p>
+<p>Lay, where it can lie best!</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"'Hush! hush its cries!</p>
+<p>Dense night is on the skies:</p>
+<p>Two stars are in thine eyes.'</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"Come, babe, away!</p>
+<p>But lie thou till dawn be grey,</p>
+<p>Who must be dead by day.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"This cannot last;</p>
+<p>But, ere the sickening blast,</p>
+<p>All sorrow shall be past;</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"And kings shall be</p>
+<p>Low bending at thy knee,</p>
+<p>Worshipping life from thee.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"For men long sore</p>
+<p>To hope of what's before,&#8212;</p>
+<p>To leave the things of yore.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"Mine, and not thine,</p>
+<p>How deep their jewels shine!</p>
+<p>Peace laps thy head, not mine."</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p>
+Old Trella came tottering from her corner, shaken to additional
+palsy by an aroused memory. She strained her dim eyes towards the
+singer, and then bent her head, that the one ear yet sensible to
+sound might avail of every note. At the close, groping forward,
+she murmured with the high-pitched quaver of old age:
+</p>
+<p>"So she sang, my Thora; my last and brightest. What is she like,
+she whose voice is like my dead Thora's? Are her eyes blue?"
+</p>
+<p>"Blue as the sky."
+</p>
+<p>"So were my Thora's! Is her hair fair, and in plaits to the
+waist?" "Even so," answered White Fell herself, and met the
+advancing hands with her own, and guided them to corroborate her
+words by touch.
+</p>
+<p>"Like my dead Thora's," repeated the old woman; and then her
+trembling hands rested on the fur-clad shoulders, and she bent
+forward and kissed the smooth fair face that White Fell upturned,
+nothing loth, to receive and return the caress.
+</p>
+<p>So Christian saw them as he entered.
+</p>
+<p>He stood a moment. After the starless darkness and the icy night
+air, and the fierce silent two hours' race, his senses reeled on
+sudden entrance into warmth, and light, and the cheery hum of
+voices. A sudden unforeseen anguish assailed him, as now first he
+entertained the possibility of being overmatched by her wiles and
+her daring, if at the approach of pure death she should start up
+at bay transformed to a terrible beast, and achieve a savage glut
+at the last. He looked with horror and pity on the harmless,
+helpless folk, so unwitting of outrage to their comfort and
+security. The dreadful Thing in their midst, that was veiled from
+their knowledge by womanly beauty, was a centre of pleasant
+interest. There, before him, signally impressive, was poor old
+Trella, weakest and feeblest of all, in fond nearness. And a
+moment might bring about the revelation of a monstrous horror&#8212;a
+ghastly, deadly danger, set loose and at bay, in a circle of girls
+and women and careless defenceless men: so hideous and terrible a
+thing as might crack the brain, or curdle the heart stone dead.
+</p>
+<p>And he alone of the throng prepared!
+</p>
+<div class="figure">
+<a name="wfescape.png" href="images/wfescape.png"><img
+ src="images/wfescape-tn.png" alt="Illustration: White Fell's Escape"/></a></div>
+<p>
+For one breathing space he faltered, no longer than that, while
+over him swept the agony of compunction that yet could not make
+him surrender his purpose.
+</p>
+<p>He alone? Nay, but Tyr also; and he crossed to the dumb sole
+sharer of his knowledge.
+</p>
+<p>So timeless is thought that a few seconds only lay between his
+lifting of the latch and his loosening of Tyr's collar; but in
+those few seconds succeeding his first glance, as lightning-swift
+had been the impulses of others, their motion as quick and sure.
+Sweyn's vigilant eye had darted upon him, and instantly his every
+fibre was alert with hostile instinct; and, half divining, half
+incredulous, of Christian's object in stooping to Tyr, he came
+hastily, wary, wrathful, resolute to oppose the malice of his
+wild-eyed brother.
+</p>
+<p>But beyond Sweyn rose White Fell, blanching white as her furs, and
+with eyes grown fierce and wild. She leapt down the room to the
+door, whirling her long robe closely to her. "Hark!" she panted.
+"The signal horn! Hark, I must go!" as she snatched at the latch
+to be out and away.
+</p>
+<p>For one precious moment Christian had hesitated on the
+half-loosened collar; for, except the womanly form were exchanged
+for the bestial, Tyr's jaws would gnash to rags his honour of
+manhood. Then he heard her voice, and turned&#8212;too late.
+</p>
+<p>As she tugged at the door, he sprang across grasping his flask,
+but Sweyn dashed between, and caught him back irresistibly, so
+that a most frantic effort only availed to wrench one arm free.
+With that, on the impulse of sheer despair, he cast at her with
+all his force. The door swung behind her, and the flask flew into
+fragments against it. Then, as Sweyn's grasp slackened, and he met
+the questioning astonishment of surrounding faces, with a hoarse
+inarticulate cry: "God help us all!" he said. "She is a
+Were-Wolf."
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn turned upon him, "Liar, coward!" and his hands gripped his
+brother's throat with deadly force, as though the spoken word
+could be killed so; and as Christian struggled, lifted him clear
+off his feet and flung him crashing backward. So furious was he,
+that, as his brother lay motionless, he stirred him roughly with
+his foot, till their mother came between, crying shame; and yet
+then he stood by, his teeth set, his brows knit, his hands
+clenched, ready to enforce silence again violently, as Christian
+rose staggering and bewildered.
+</p>
+<p>But utter silence and submission were more than he expected, and
+turned his anger into contempt for one so easily cowed and held in
+subjection by mere force. "He is mad!" he said, turning on his
+heel as he spoke, so that he lost his mother's look of pained
+reproach at this sudden free utterance of what was a lurking dread
+within her.
+</p>
+<p>Christian was too spent for the effort of speech. His hard-drawn
+breath laboured in great sobs; his limbs were powerless and
+unstrung in utter relax after hard service. Failure in his
+endeavour induced a stupor of misery and despair. In addition was
+the wretched humiliation of open violence and strife with his
+brother, and the distress of hearing misjudging contempt expressed
+without reserve; for he was aware that Sweyn had turned to allay
+the scared excitement half by imperious mastery, half by
+explanation and argument, that showed painful disregard of
+brotherly consideration. All this unkindness of his twin he
+charged upon the fell Thing who had wrought this their first
+dissension, and, ah! most terrible thought, interposed between
+them so effectually, that Sweyn was wilfully blind and deaf on her
+account, resentful of interference, arbitrary beyond reason.
+</p>
+<p>Dread and perplexity unfathomable darkened upon him; unshared, the
+burden was overwhelming: a foreboding of unspeakable calamity,
+based upon his ghastly discovery, bore down upon him, crushing out
+hope of power to withstand impending fate.
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn the while was observant of his brother, despite the
+continual check of finding, turn and glance when he would,
+Christian's eyes always upon him, with a strange look of helpless
+distress, discomposing enough to the angry aggressor. "Like a
+beaten dog!" he said to himself, rallying contempt to withstand
+compunction. Observation set him wondering on Christian's
+exhausted condition. The heavy labouring breath and the slack
+inert fall of the limbs told surely of unusual and prolonged
+exertion. And then why had close upon two hours' absence been
+followed by open hostility against White Fell?
+</p>
+<p>Suddenly, the fragments of the flask giving a clue, he guessed
+all, and faced about to stare at his brother in amaze. He forgot
+that the motive scheme was against White Fell, demanding derision
+and resentment from him; that was swept out of remembrance by
+astonishment and admiration for the feat of speed and endurance.
+In eagerness to question he inclined to attempt a generous part
+and frankly offer to heal the breach; but Christian's depression
+and sad following gaze provoked him to self-justification by
+recalling the offence of that outrageous utterance against White
+Fell; and the impulse passed. Then other considerations counselled
+silence; and afterwards a humour possessed him to wait and see how
+Christian would find opportunity to proclaim his performance and
+establish the fact, without exciting ridicule on account of the
+absurdity of the errand.
+</p>
+<p>This expectation remained unfulfilled. Christian never attempted
+the proud avowal that would have placed his feat on record to be
+told to the next generation.
+</p>
+<p>That night Sweyn and his mother talked long and late together,
+shaping into certainty the suspicion that Christian's mind had
+lost its balance, and discussing the evident cause. For Sweyn,
+declaring his own love for White Fell, suggested that his
+unfortunate brother, with a like passion, they being twins in
+loves as in birth, had through jealousy and despair turned from
+love to hate, until reason failed at the strain, and a craze
+developed, which the malice and treachery of madness made a
+serious and dangerous force.
+</p>
+<p>So Sweyn theorised, convincing himself as he spoke; convincing
+afterwards others who advanced doubts against White Fell;
+fettering his judgment by his advocacy, and by his staunch defence
+of her hurried flight silencing his own inner consciousness of the
+unaccountability of her action.
+</p>
+<p>But a little time and Sweyn lost his vantage in the shock of a
+fresh horror at the homestead. Trella was no more, and her end a
+mystery. The poor old woman crawled out in a bright gleam to visit
+a bed-ridden gossip living beyond the fir-grove. Under the trees
+she was last seen, halting for her companion, sent back for a
+forgotten present. Quick alarm sprang, calling every man to the
+search. Her stick was found among the brushwood only a few paces
+from the path, but no track or stain, for a gusty wind was sifting
+the snow from the branches, and hid all sign of how she came by
+her death.
+</p>
+<p>So panic-stricken were the farm folk that none dared go singly on
+the search. Known danger could be braced, but not this stealthy
+Death that walked by day invisible, that cut off alike the child
+in his play and the aged woman so near to her quiet grave.
+</p>
+<p>"Rol she kissed; Trella she kissed!" So rang Christian's frantic
+cry again and again, till Sweyn dragged him away and strove to
+keep him apart, albeit in his agony of grief and remorse he
+accused himself wildly as answerable for the tragedy, and gave
+clear proof that the charge of madness was well founded, if
+strange looks and desperate, incoherent words were evidence
+enough.
+</p>
+<p>But thenceforward all Sweyn's reasoning and mastery could not
+uphold White Fell above suspicion. He was not called upon to
+defend her from accusation when Christian had been brought to
+silence again; but he well knew the significance of this fact,
+that her name, formerly uttered freely and often, he never heard
+now: it was huddled away into whispers that he could not catch.
+</p>
+<p>The passing of time did not sweep away the superstitious fears
+that Sweyn despised. He was angry and anxious; eager that White
+Fell should return, and, merely by her bright gracious presence,
+reinstate herself in favour; but doubtful if all his authority and
+example could keep from her notice an altered aspect of welcome;
+and he foresaw clearly that Christian would prove unmanageable,
+and might be capable of some dangerous outbreak.
+</p>
+<p>For a time the twins' variance was marked, on Sweyn's part by an
+air of rigid indifference, on Christian's by heavy downcast
+silence, and a nervous apprehensive observation of his brother.
+Superadded to his remorse and foreboding, Sweyn's displeasure
+weighed upon him intolerably, and the remembrance of their violent
+rupture was a ceaseless misery. The elder brother, self-sufficient
+and insensitive, could little know how deeply his unkindness
+stabbed. A depth and force of affection such as Christian's was
+unknown to him. The loyal subservience that he could not
+appreciate had encouraged him to domineer; this strenuous
+opposition to his reason and will was accounted as furious malice,
+if not sheer insanity.
+</p>
+<p>Christian's surveillance galled him incessantly, and embarrassment
+and danger he foresaw as the outcome. Therefore, that suspicion
+might be lulled, he judged it wise to make overtures for peace.
+Most easily done. A little kindliness, a few evidences of
+consideration, a slight return of the old brotherly imperiousness,
+and Christian replied by a gratefulness and relief that might have
+touched him had he understood all, but instead, increased his
+secret contempt.
+</p>
+<p>So successful was this finesse, that when, late on a day, a
+message summoning Christian to a distance was transmitted by
+Sweyn, no doubt of its genuineness occurred. When, his errand
+proved useless, he set out to return, mistake or misapprehension
+was all that he surmised. Not till he sighted the homestead, lying
+low between the night-grey snow ridges, did vivid recollection of
+the time when he had tracked that horror to the door rouse an
+intense dread, and with it a hardly-defined suspicion.
+</p>
+<p>His grasp tightened on the bear-spear that he carried as a staff;
+every sense was alert, every muscle strung; excitement urged him
+on, caution checked him, and the two governed his long stride,
+swiftly, noiselessly, to the climax he felt was at hand.
+</p>
+<p>As he drew near to the outer gates, a light shadow stirred and
+went, as though the grey of the snow had taken detached motion. A
+darker shadow stayed and faced Christian, striking his life-blood
+chill with utmost despair.
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn stood before him, and surely, the shadow that went was White
+Fell.
+</p>
+<p>They had been together&#8212;close. Had she not been in his arms, near
+enough for lips to meet?
+</p>
+<p>There was no moon, but the stars gave light enough to show that
+Sweyn's face was flushed and elate. The flush remained, though the
+expression changed quickly at sight of his brother. How, if
+Christian had seen all, should one of his frenzied outbursts be
+met and managed: by resolution? by indifference? He halted between
+the two, and as a result, he swaggered.
+</p>
+<p>"White Fell?" questioned Christian, hoarse and breathless.
+</p>
+<p>"Yes?"
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn's answer was a query, with an intonation that implied he was
+clearing the ground for action.
+</p>
+<p>From Christian came: "Have you kissed her?" like a bolt direct,
+staggering Sweyn by its sheer prompt temerity.
+</p>
+<p>He flushed yet darker, and yet half-smiled over this earnest of
+success he had won. Had there been really between himself and
+Christian the rivalry that he imagined, his face had enough of the
+insolence of triumph to exasperate jealous rage.
+</p>
+<p>"You dare ask this!"
+</p>
+<p>"Sweyn, O Sweyn, I must know! You have!"
+</p>
+<p>The ring of despair and anguish in his tone angered Sweyn,
+misconstruing it. Jealousy urging to such presumption was
+intolerable.
+</p>
+<p>"Mad fool!" he said, constraining himself no longer. "Win for
+yourself a woman to kiss. Leave mine without question. Such an one
+as I should desire to kiss is such an one as shall never allow a
+kiss to you."
+</p>
+<p>Then Christian fully understood his supposition.
+</p>
+<p>"I&#8212;I!" he cried. "White Fell&#8212;that deadly Thing! Sweyn, are you
+blind, mad? I would save you from her: a Were-Wolf!"
+</p>
+<p>Sweyn maddened again at the accusation&#8212;a dastardly way of
+revenge, as he conceived; and instantly, for the second time, the
+brothers were at strife violently.
+</p>
+<p>But Christian was now too desperate to be scrupulous; for a dim
+glimpse had shot a possibility into his mind, and to be free to
+follow it the striking of his brother was a necessity. Thank God!
+he was armed, and so Sweyn's equal.
+</p>
+<div class="figure">
+<a name="race.png" href="images/race.png"><img src="images/race-tn.png"
+ alt="Illustration: The Race"/></a></div>
+<p>
+Facing his assailant with the bear-spear, he struck up his arms,
+and with the butt end hit hard so that he fell. The matchless
+runner leapt away on the instant, to follow a forlorn hope. Sweyn,
+on regaining his feet, was as amazed as angry at this unaccountable
+flight. He knew in his heart that his brother was no
+coward, and that it was unlike him to shrink from an encounter
+because defeat was certain, and cruel humiliation from a
+vindictive victor probable. Of the uselessness of pursuit he was
+well aware: he must abide his chagrin, content to know that his
+time for advantage would come. Since White Fell had parted to the
+right, Christian to the left, the event of a sequent encounter did
+not occur to him. And now Christian, acting on the dim glimpse he
+had had, just as Sweyn turned upon him, of something that moved
+against the sky along the ridge behind the homestead, was staking
+his only hope on a chance, and his own superlative speed. If what
+he saw was really White Fell, he guessed she was bending her steps
+towards the open wastes; and there was just a possibility that, by
+a straight dash, and a desperate perilous leap over a sheer bluff,
+he might yet meet her or head her. And then: he had no further
+thought.
+</p>
+<p>It was past, the quick, fierce race, and the chance of death at
+the leap; and he halted in a hollow to fetch his breath and to
+look: did she come? had she gone?
+</p>
+<p>She came.
+</p>
+<p>She came with a smooth, gliding, noiseless speed, that was neither
+walking nor running; her arms were folded in her furs that were
+drawn tight about her body; the white lappets from her head were
+wrapped and knotted closely beneath her face; her eyes were set on
+a far distance. So she went till the even sway of her going was
+startled to a pause by Christian.
+</p>
+<p>"Fell!"
+</p>
+<p>She drew a quick, sharp breath at the sound of her name thus
+mutilated, and faced Sweyn's brother. Her eyes glittered; her
+upper lip was lifted, and shewed the teeth. The half of her name,
+impressed with an ominous sense as uttered by him, warned her of
+the aspect of a deadly foe. Yet she cast loose her robes till they
+trailed ample, and spoke as a mild woman.
+</p>
+<p>"What would you?"
+</p>
+<p>Then Christian answered with his solemn dreadful accusation:
+</p>
+<p>"You kissed Rol&#8212;and Rol is dead! You kissed Trella: she is dead!
+You have kissed Sweyn, my brother; but he shall not die!"
+</p>
+<p>He added: "You may live till midnight."
+</p>
+<p>The edge of the teeth and the glitter of the eyes stayed a moment,
+and her right hand also slid down to the axe haft. Then, without a
+word, she swerved from him, and sprang out and away swiftly over
+the snow.
+</p>
+<p>And Christian sprang out and away, and followed her swiftly over
+the snow, keeping behind, but half-a-stride's length from her
+side.
+</p>
+<p>So they went running together, silent, towards the vast wastes of
+snow, where no living thing but they two moved under the stars of
+night.
+</p>
+<p>Never before had Christian so rejoiced in his powers. The gift of
+speed, and the training of use and endurance were priceless to him
+now. Though midnight was hours away, he was confident that, go
+where that Fell Thing would, hasten as she would, she could not
+outstrip him nor escape from him. Then, when came the time for
+transformation, when the woman's form made no longer a shield
+against a man's hand, he could slay or be slain to save Sweyn. He
+had struck his dear brother in dire extremity, but he could not,
+though reason urged, strike a woman.
+</p>
+<p>For one mile, for two miles they ran: White Fell ever foremost,
+Christian ever at equal distance from her side, so near that, now
+and again, her out-flying furs touched him. She spoke no word; nor
+he. She never turned her head to look at him, nor swerved to evade
+him; but, with set face looking forward, sped straight on, over
+rough, over smooth, aware of his nearness by the regular beat of
+his feet, and the sound of his breath behind.
+</p>
+<p>In a while she quickened her pace. From the first, Christian had
+judged of her speed as admirable, yet with exulting security in
+his own excelling and enduring whatever her efforts. But, when the
+pace increased, he found himself put to the test as never had he
+been before in any race. Her feet, indeed, flew faster than his;
+it was only by his length of stride that he kept his place at her
+side. But his heart was high and resolute, and he did not fear
+failure yet.
+</p>
+<p>So the desperate race flew on. Their feet struck up the powdery
+snow, their breath smoked into the sharp clear air, and they were
+gone before the air was cleared of snow and vapour. Now and then
+Christian glanced up to judge, by the rising of the stars, of the
+coming of midnight. So long&#8212;so long!
+</p>
+<p>White Fell held on without slack. She, it was evident, with
+confidence in her speed proving matchless, as resolute to outrun
+her pursuer as he to endure till midnight and fulfil his purpose.
+And Christian held on, still self-assured. He could not fail; he
+would not fail. To avenge Rol and Trella was motive enough for him
+to do what man could do; but for Sweyn more. She had kissed Sweyn,
+but he should not die too: with Sweyn to save he could not fail.
+</p>
+<p>Never before was such a race as this; no, not when in old Greece
+man and maid raced together with two fates at stake; for the hard
+running was sustained unabated, while star after star rose and
+went wheeling up towards midnight, for one hour, for two hours.
+</p>
+<p>Then Christian saw and heard what shot him through with fear.
+Where a fringe of trees hung round a slope he saw something dark
+moving, and heard a yelp, followed by a full horrid cry, and the
+dark spread out upon the snow, a pack of wolves in pursuit.
+</p>
+<p>Of the beasts alone he had little cause for fear; at the pace he
+held he could distance them, four-footed though they were. But of
+White Fell's wiles he had infinite apprehension, for how might she
+not avail herself of the savage jaws of these wolves, akin as they
+were to half her nature. She vouchsafed to them nor look nor sign;
+but Christian, on an impulse to assure himself that she should not
+escape him, caught and held the back-flung edge of her furs,
+running still.
+</p>
+<p>She turned like a flash with a beastly snarl, teeth and eyes
+gleaming again. Her axe shone, on the upstroke, on the downstroke,
+as she hacked at his hand. She had lopped it off at the wrist, but
+that he parried with the bear-spear. Even then, she shore through
+the shaft and shattered the bones of the hand at the same blow, so
+that he loosed perforce.
+</p>
+<p>Then again they raced on as before, Christian not losing a pace,
+though his left hand swung useless, bleeding and broken.
+</p>
+<p>The snarl, indubitable, though modified from a woman's organs, the
+vicious fury revealed in teeth and eyes, the sharp arrogant pain
+of her maiming blow, caught away Christian's heed of the beasts
+behind, by striking into him close vivid realisation of the
+infinitely greater danger that ran before him in that deadly
+Thing.
+</p>
+<p>When he bethought him to look behind, lo! the pack had but reached
+their tracks, and instantly slunk aside, cowed; the yell of
+pursuit changing to yelps and whines. So abhorrent was that fell
+creature to beast as to man.
+</p>
+<p>She had drawn her furs more closely to her, disposing them so
+that, instead of flying loose to her heels, no drapery hung lower
+than her knees, and this without a check to her wonderful speed,
+nor embarrassment by the cumbering of the folds. She held her head
+as before; her lips were firmly set, only the tense nostrils gave
+her breath; not a sign of distress witnessed to the long
+sustaining of that terrible speed.
+</p>
+<p>But on Christian by now the strain was telling palpably. His head
+weighed heavy, and his breath came labouring in great sobs; the
+bear spear would have been a burden now. His heart was beating
+like a hammer, but such a dulness oppressed his brain, that it was
+only by degrees he could realise his helpless state; wounded and
+weaponless, chasing that terrible Thing, that was a fierce,
+desperate, axe-armed woman, except she should assume the beast
+with fangs yet more formidable.
+</p>
+<p>And still the far slow stars went lingering nearly an hour from
+midnight.
+</p>
+<p>So far was his brain astray that an impression took him that she
+was fleeing from the midnight stars, whose gain was by such slow
+degrees that a time equalling days and days had gone in the race
+round the northern circle of the world, and days and days as long
+might last before the end&#8212;except she slackened, or except he
+failed.
+</p>
+<p>But he would not fail yet.
+</p>
+<p>How long had he been praying so? He had started with a
+self-confidence and reliance that had felt no need for that aid;
+and now it seemed the only means by which to restrain his heart
+from swelling beyond the compass of his body, by which to cherish
+his brain from dwindling and shrivelling quite away. Some
+sharp-toothed creature kept tearing and dragging on his maimed
+left hand; he never could see it, he could not shake it off; but
+he prayed it off at times.
+</p>
+<p>The clear stars before him took to shuddering, and he knew why:
+they shuddered at sight of what was behind him. He had never
+divined before that strange things hid themselves from men under
+pretence of being snow-clad mounds or swaying trees; but now they
+came slipping out from their harmless covers to follow him, and
+mock at his impotence to make a kindred Thing resolve to truer
+form. He knew the air behind him was thronged; he heard the hum of
+innumerable murmurings together; but his eyes could never catch
+them, they were too swift and nimble. Yet he knew they were there,
+because, on a backward glance, he saw the snow mounds surge as
+they grovelled flatlings out of sight; he saw the trees reel as
+they screwed themselves rigid past recognition among the boughs.
+</p>
+<p>And after such glance the stars for awhile returned to
+steadfastness, and an infinite stretch of silence froze upon the
+chill grey world, only deranged by the swift even beat of the
+flying feet, and his own&#8212;slower from the longer stride, and the
+sound of his breath. And for some clear moments he knew that his
+only concern was, to sustain his speed regardless of pain and
+distress, to deny with every nerve he had her power to outstrip
+him or to widen the space between them, till the stars crept up to
+midnight. Then out again would come that crowd invisible, humming
+and hustling behind, dense and dark enough, he knew, to blot out
+the stars at his back, yet ever skipping and jerking from his
+sight.
+</p>
+<p>A hideous check came to the race. White Fell swirled about and
+leapt to the right, and Christian, unprepared for so prompt a
+lurch, found close at his feet a deep pit yawning, and his own
+impetus past control. But he snatched at her as he bore past,
+clasping her right arm with his one whole hand, and the two swung
+together upon the brink.
+</p>
+<p>And her straining away in self preservation was vigorous enough to
+counter-balance his headlong impulse, and brought them reeling
+together to safety.
+</p>
+<p>Then, before he was verily sure that they were not to perish so,
+crashing down, he saw her gnashing in wild pale fury as she
+wrenched to be free; and since her right hand was in his grasp,
+used her axe left-handed, striking back at him.
+</p>
+<p>The blow was effectual enough even so; his right arm dropped
+powerless, gashed, and with the lesser bone broken, that jarred
+with horrid pain when he let it swing as he leaped out again, and
+ran to recover the few feet she had gained from his pause at the
+shock.
+</p>
+<p>The near escape and this new quick pain made again every faculty
+alive and intense. He knew that what he followed was most surely
+Death animate: wounded and helpless, he was utterly at her mercy
+if so she should realise and take action. Hopeless to avenge,
+hopeless to save, his very despair for Sweyn swept him on to
+follow, and follow, and precede the kiss-doomed to death. Could he
+yet fail to hunt that Thing past midnight, out of the womanly form
+alluring and treacherous, into lasting restraint of the bestial,
+which was the last shred of hope left from the confident purpose
+of the outset?
+</p>
+<p>"Sweyn, Sweyn, O Sweyn!" He thought he was praying, though his
+heart wrung out nothing but this: "Sweyn, Sweyn, O Sweyn!"
+</p>
+<p>The last hour from midnight had lost half its quarters, and the
+stars went lifting up the great minutes; and again his greatening
+heart, and his shrinking brain, and the sickening agony that swung
+at either side, conspired to appal the will that had only seeming
+empire over his feet.
+</p>
+<p>Now White Fell's body was so closely enveloped that not a lap nor
+an edge flew free. She stretched forward strangely aslant, leaning
+from the upright poise of a runner. She cleared the ground at
+times by long bounds, gaining an increase of speed that Christian
+agonised to equal.
+</p>
+<p>Because the stars pointed that the end was nearing, the black
+brood came behind again, and followed, noising. Ah! if they could
+but be kept quiet and still, nor slip their usual harmless masks
+to encourage with their interest the last speed of their most
+deadly congener. What shape had they? Should he ever know? If it
+were not that he was bound to compel the fell Thing that ran
+before him into her truer form, he might face about and follow
+them. No&#8212;no&#8212;not so; if he might do anything but what he
+did&#8212;race, race, and racing bear this agony, he would just stand
+still and die, to be quit of the pain of breathing.
+</p>
+<p>He grew bewildered, uncertain of his own identity, doubting of his
+own true form. He could not be really a man, no more than that
+running Thing was really a woman; his real form was only hidden
+under embodiment of a man, but what it was he did not know. And
+Sweyn's real form he did not know. Sweyn lay fallen at his feet,
+where he had struck him down&#8212;his own brother&#8212;he: he stumbled
+over him, and had to overleap him and race harder because she who
+had kissed Sweyn leapt so fast. "Sweyn, Sweyn, O Sweyn!"
+</p>
+<p>Why did the stars stop to shudder? Midnight else had surely come!
+</p>
+<p>The leaning, leaping Thing looked back at him with a wild, fierce
+look, and laughed in savage scorn and triumph. He saw in a flash
+why, for within a time measurable by seconds she would have
+escaped him utterly. As the land lay, a slope of ice sunk on the
+one hand; on the other hand a steep rose, shouldering forwards;
+between the two was space for a foot to be planted, but none for a
+body to stand; yet a juniper bough, thrusting out, gave a handhold
+secure enough for one with a resolute grasp to swing past the
+perilous place, and pass on safe.
+</p>
+<p>Though the first seconds of the last moment were going, she dared
+to flash back a wicked look, and laugh at the pursuer who was
+impotent to grasp.
+</p>
+<div class="figure">
+<a name="finish.png" href="images/finish.png"><img
+ src="images/finish-tn.png" alt="Illustration: The Finish"/></a></div>
+<p>
+The crisis struck convulsive life into his last supreme effort;
+his will surged up indomitable, his speed proved matchless yet. He
+leapt with a rush, passed her before her laugh had time to go out,
+and turned short, barring the way, and braced to withstand her.
+</p>
+<p>She came hurling desperate, with a feint to the right hand, and
+then launched herself upon him with a spring like a wild beast
+when it leaps to kill. And he, with one strong arm and a hand that
+could not hold, with one strong hand and an arm that could not
+guide and sustain, he caught and held her even so. And they fell
+together. And because he felt his whole arm slipping, and his
+whole hand loosing, to slack the dreadful agony of the wrenched
+bone above, he caught and held with his teeth the tunic at her
+knee, as she struggled up and wrung off his hands to overleap him
+victorious.
+</p>
+<p>Like lightning she snatched her axe, and struck him on the neck,
+deep&#8212;once, twice&#8212;his life-blood gushed out, staining her feet.
+</p>
+<p>The stars touched midnight.
+</p>
+<p>The death scream he heard was not his, for his set teeth had
+hardly yet relaxed when it rang out; and the dreadful cry began
+with a woman's shriek, and changed and ended as the yell of a
+beast. And before the final blank overtook his dying eyes, he saw
+that She gave place to It; he saw more, that Life gave place to
+Death&#8212;causelessly, incomprehensibly.
+</p>
+<p>For he did not presume that no holy water could be more holy, more
+potent to destroy an evil thing than the life-blood of a pure
+heart poured out for another in free willing devotion.
+</p>
+<p>His own true hidden reality that he had desired to know grew
+palpable, recognisable. It seemed to him just this: a great glad
+abounding hope that he had saved his brother; too expansive to be
+contained by the limited form of a sole man, it yearned for a new
+embodiment infinite as the stars.
+</p>
+<p>What did it matter to that true reality that the man's brain
+shrank, shrank, till it was nothing; that the man's body could not
+retain the huge pain of his heart, and heaved it out through the
+red exit riven at the neck; that the black noise came again
+hurtling from behind, reinforced by that dissolved shape, and
+blotted out for ever the man's sight, hearing, sense.
+</p>
+<hr width="63%"/>
+<p>In the early grey of day Sweyn chanced upon the footprints of a
+man&#8212;of a runner, as he saw by the shifted snow; and the direction
+they had taken aroused curiosity, since a little farther their
+line must be crossed by the edge of a sheer height. He turned to
+trace them. And so doing, the length of the stride struck his
+attention&#8212;a stride long as his own if he ran. He knew he was
+following Christian.
+</p>
+<p>In his anger he had hardened himself to be indifferent to the
+night-long absence of his brother; but now, seeing where the
+footsteps went, he was seized with compunction and dread. He had
+failed to give thought and care to his poor frantic twin, who
+might&#8212;was it possible?&#8212;have rushed to a frantic death.
+</p>
+<p>His heart stood still when he came to the place where the leap had
+been taken. A piled edge of snow had fallen too, and nothing but
+snow lay below when he peered. Along the upper edge he ran for a
+furlong, till he came to a dip where he could slip and climb down,
+and then back again on the lower level to the pile of fallen snow.
+There he saw that the vigorous running had started afresh.
+</p>
+<p>He stood pondering; vexed that any man should have taken that leap
+where he had not ventured to follow; vexed that he had been
+beguiled to such painful emotions; guessing vainly at Christian's
+object in this mad freak. He began sauntering along, half
+unconsciously following his brother's track; and so in a while he
+came to the place where the footprints were doubled.
+</p>
+<p>Small prints were these others, small as a woman's, though the
+pace from one to another was longer than that which the skirts of
+women allow.
+</p>
+<p>Did not White Fell tread so?
+</p>
+<p>A dreadful guess appalled him, so dreadful that he recoiled from
+belief. Yet his face grew ashy white, and he gasped to fetch back
+motion to his checked heart. Unbelievable? Closer attention showed
+how the smaller footfall had altered for greater speed, striking
+into the snow with a deeper onset and a lighter pressure on the
+heels. Unbelievable? Could any woman but White Fell run so? Could
+any man but Christian run so? The guess became a certainty. He was
+following where alone in the dark night White Fell had fled from
+Christian pursuing.
+</p>
+<p>Such villainy set heart and brain on fire with rage and
+indignation: such villainy in his own brother, till lately
+love-worthy, praiseworthy, though a fool for meekness. He would
+kill Christian; had he lives many as the footprints he had trodden,
+vengeance should demand them all. In a tempest of murderous hate
+he followed on in haste, for the track was plain enough, starting
+with such a burst of speed as could not be maintained, but brought
+him back soon to a plod for the spent, sobbing breath to be
+regulated. He cursed Christian aloud and called White Fell's name
+on high in a frenzied expense of passion. His grief itself was a
+rage, being such an intolerable anguish of pity and shame at the
+thought of his love, White Fell, who had parted from his kiss free
+and radiant, to be hounded straightway by his brother mad with
+jealousy, fleeing for more than life while her lover was housed at
+his ease. If he had but known, he raved, in impotent rebellion at
+the cruelty of events, if he had but known that his strength and
+love might have availed in her defence; now the only service to
+her that he could render was to kill Christian.
+</p>
+<p>As a woman he knew she was matchless in speed, matchless in
+strength; but Christian was matchless in speed among men, nor
+easily to be matched in strength. Brave and swift and strong
+though she were, what chance had she against a man of his strength
+and inches, frantic, too, and intent on horrid revenge against his
+brother, his successful rival?
+</p>
+<p>Mile after mile he followed with a bursting heart; more piteous,
+more tragic, seemed the case at this evidence of White Fell's
+splendid supremacy, holding her own so long against Christian's
+famous speed. So long, so long that his love and admiration grew
+more and more boundless, and his grief and indignation therewith
+also. Whenever the track lay clear he ran, with such reckless
+prodigality of strength, that it soon was spent, and he dragged on
+heavily, till, sometimes on the ice of a mere, sometimes on a
+wind-swept place, all signs were lost; but, so undeviating had
+been their line that a course straight on, and then short questing
+to either hand, recovered them again.
+</p>
+<p>Hour after hour had gone by through more than half that winter
+day, before ever he came to the place where the trampled snow
+showed that a scurry of feet had come&#8212;and gone! Wolves' feet&#8212;and
+gone most amazingly! Only a little beyond he came to the lopped
+point of Christian's bear-spear; farther on he would see where the
+remnant of the useless shaft had been dropped. The snow here was
+dashed with blood, and the footsteps of the two had fallen closer
+together. Some hoarse sound of exultation came from him that might
+have been a laugh had breath sufficed. "O White Fell, my poor,
+brave love! Well struck!" he groaned, torn by his pity and great
+admiration, as he guessed surely how she had turned and dealt a
+blow.
+</p>
+<p>The sight of the blood inflamed him as it might a beast that
+ravens. He grew mad with a desire to have Christian by the throat
+once again, not to loose this time till he had crushed out his
+life, or beat out his life, or stabbed out his life; or all these,
+and torn him piecemeal likewise: and ah! then, not till then,
+bleed his heart with weeping, like a child, like a girl, over the
+piteous fate of his poor lost love.
+</p>
+<p>On&#8212;on&#8212;on&#8212;through the aching time, toiling and straining in the
+track of those two superb runners, aware of the marvel of their
+endurance, but unaware of the marvel of their speed, that, in the
+three hours before midnight had overpassed all that vast distance
+that he could only traverse from twilight to twilight. For clear
+daylight was passing when he came to the edge of an old marl-pit,
+and saw how the two who had gone before had stamped and trampled
+together in desperate peril on the verge. And here fresh blood
+stains spoke to him of a valiant defence against his infamous
+brother; and he followed where the blood had dripped till the cold
+had staunched its flow, taking a savage gratification from this
+evidence that Christian had been gashed deeply, maddening afresh
+with desire to do likewise more excellently, and so slake his
+murderous hate. And he began to know that through all his despair
+he had entertained a germ of hope, that grew apace, rained upon by
+his brother's blood.
+</p>
+<p>He strove on as best he might, wrung now by an access of hope, now
+of despair, in agony to reach the end, however terrible, sick with
+the aching of the toiled miles that deferred it.
+</p>
+<p>And the light went lingering out of the sky, giving place to
+uncertain stars.
+</p>
+<p>He came to the finish.
+</p>
+<p>Two bodies lay in a narrow place. Christian's was one, but the
+other beyond not White Fell's. There where the footsteps ended lay
+a great white wolf.
+</p>
+<p>At the sight Sweyn's strength was blasted; body and soul he was
+struck down grovelling.
+</p>
+<p>The stars had grown sure and intense before he stirred from where
+he had dropped prone. Very feebly he crawled to his dead brother,
+and laid his hands upon him, and crouched so, afraid to look or
+stir farther.
+</p>
+<p>Cold, stiff, hours dead. Yet the dead body was his only shelter
+and stay in that most dreadful hour. His soul, stripped bare of
+all sceptic comfort, cowered, shivering, naked, abject; and the
+living clung to the dead out of piteous need for grace from the
+soul that had passed away.
+</p>
+<p>He rose to his knees, lifting the body. Christian had fallen face
+forward in the snow, with his arms flung up and wide, and so had
+the frost made him rigid: strange, ghastly, unyielding to Sweyn's
+lifting, so that he laid him down again and crouched above, with
+his arms fast round him, and a low heart-wrung groan.
+</p>
+<div class="figure">
+<a name="finding.png" href="images/finding.png"><img
+ src="images/finding-tn.png" alt="Illustration: Sweyn's Finding"/></a></div>
+<p>
+When at last he found force to raise his brother's body and gather
+it in his arms, tight clasped to his breast, he tried to face the
+Thing that lay beyond. The sight set his limbs in a palsy with
+horror and dread. His senses had failed and fainted in utter
+cowardice, but for the strength that came from holding dead
+Christian in his arms, enabling him to compel his eyes to endure
+the sight, and take into the brain the complete aspect of the
+Thing. No wound, only blood stains on the feet. The great grim
+jaws had a savage grin, though dead-stiff. And his kiss: he could
+bear it no longer, and turned away, nor ever looked again.
+</p>
+<p>And the dead man in his arms, knowing the full horror, had
+followed and faced it for his sake; had suffered agony and death
+for his sake; in the neck was the deep death gash, one arm and
+both hands were dark with frozen blood, for his sake! Dead he knew
+him, as in life he had not known him, to give the right meed of
+love and worship. Because the outward man lacked perfection and
+strength equal to his, he had taken the love and worship of that
+great pure heart as his due; he, so unworthy in the inner reality,
+so mean, so despicable, callous, and contemptuous towards the
+brother who had laid down his life to save him. He longed for
+utter annihilation, that so he might lose the agony of knowing
+himself so unworthy such perfect love. The frozen calm of death on
+the face appalled him. He dared not touch it with lips that had
+cursed so lately, with lips fouled by kiss of the horror that had
+been death.
+</p>
+<p>He struggled to his feet, still clasping Christian. The dead man
+stood upright within his arm, frozen rigid. The eyes were not
+quite closed; the head had stiffened, bowed slightly to one side;
+the arms stayed straight and wide. It was the figure of one
+crucified, the blood-stained hands also conforming.
+</p>
+<p>So living and dead went back along the track that one had passed
+in the deepest passion of love, and one in the deepest passion of
+hate. All that night Sweyn toiled through the snow, bearing the
+weight of dead Christian, treading back along the steps he before
+had trodden, when he was wronging with vilest thoughts, and
+cursing with murderous hatred, the brother who all the while lay
+dead for his sake.
+</p>
+<p>Cold, silence, darkness encompassed the strong man bowed with the
+dolorous burden; and yet he knew surely that that night he entered
+hell, and trod hell-fire along the homeward road, and endured
+through it only because Christian was with him. And he knew surely
+that to him Christian had been as Christ, and had suffered and
+died to save him from his sins.
+</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WERE-WOLF***</p>
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@@ -0,0 +1,2246 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Were-Wolf, by Clemence Housman,
+Illustrated by Laurence Housman
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Were-Wolf
+
+Author: Clemence Housman
+
+Release Date: August 7, 2004  [eBook #13131]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WERE-WOLF***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Hagen von Eitzen, and Project Gutenberg
+Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 13131-h.htm or 13131-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/1/3/13131/13131-h/13131-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/1/3/13131/13131-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+THE WERE-WOLF
+
+by
+
+CLEMENCE HOUSMAN
+
+With Six Illustrations by Laurence Housman
+
+1896
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Holy Water]
+
+
+
+TO THE DEAR MEMORY OF
+E.W.P.
+
+"YOU WILL THINK OF ME SOMETIMES,
+MY DEAR?"
+
+
+
+LIST OF PLATES
+
+Holy Water
+Rol's Worship
+White Fell's Escape
+The Race
+The Finish
+Sweyn's Finding
+
+
+
+THE WERE-WOLF
+
+The great farm hall was ablaze with the fire-light, and noisy with
+laughter and talk and many-sounding work. None could be idle but
+the very young and the very old: little Rol, who was hugging a
+puppy, and old Trella, whose palsied hand fumbled over her
+knitting. The early evening had closed in, and the farm-servants,
+come from their outdoor work, had assembled in the ample hall,
+which gave space for a score or more of workers. Several of the
+men were engaged in carving, and to these were yielded the best
+place and light; others made or repaired fishing-tackle and
+harness, and a great seine net occupied three pairs of hands. Of
+the women most were sorting and mixing eider feather and chopping
+straw to add to it. Looms were there, though not in present use,
+but three wheels whirred emulously, and the finest and swiftest
+thread of the three ran between the fingers of the house-mistress.
+Near her were some children, busy too, plaiting wicks for candles
+and lamps. Each group of workers had a lamp in its centre, and
+those farthest from the fire had live heat from two braziers
+filled with glowing wood embers, replenished now and again from
+the generous hearth. But the flicker of the great fire was
+manifest to remotest corners, and prevailed beyond the limits of
+the weaker lights.
+
+Little Rol grew tired of his puppy, dropped it incontinently, and
+made an onslaught on Tyr, the old wolf-hound, who basked dozing,
+whimpering and twitching in his hunting dreams. Prone went Rol
+beside Tyr, his young arms round the shaggy neck, his curls
+against the black jowl. Tyr gave a perfunctory lick, and stretched
+with a sleepy sigh. Rol growled and rolled and shoved invitingly,
+but could only gain from the old dog placid toleration and a
+half-observant blink. "Take that then!" said Rol, indignant at this
+ignoring of his advances, and sent the puppy sprawling against the
+dignity that disdained him as playmate. The dog took no notice,
+and the child wandered off to find amusement elsewhere.
+
+The baskets of white eider feathers caught his eye far off in a
+distant corner. He slipped under the table, and crept along on
+all-fours, the ordinary common-place custom of walking down a room
+upright not being to his fancy. When close to the women he lay
+still for a moment watching, with his elbows on the floor and his
+chin in his palms. One of the women seeing him nodded and smiled,
+and presently he crept out behind her skirts and passed, hardly
+noticed, from one to another, till he found opportunity to possess
+himself of a large handful of feathers. With these he traversed
+the length of the room, under the table again, and emerged near
+the spinners. At the feet of the youngest he curled himself round,
+sheltered by her knees from the observation of the others, and
+disarmed her of interference by secretly displaying his handful
+with a confiding smile. A dubious nod satisfied him, and presently
+he started on the play he had devised. He took a tuft of the white
+down, and gently shook it free of his fingers close to the whirl
+of the wheel. The wind of the swift motion took it, spun it round
+and round in widening circles, till it floated above like a slow
+white moth. Little Rol's eyes danced, and the row of his small
+teeth shone in a silent laugh of delight. Another and another of
+the white tufts was sent whirling round like a winged thing in a
+spider's web, and floating clear at last. Presently the handful
+failed.
+
+Rol sprawled forward to survey the room, and contemplate another
+journey under the table. His shoulder, thrusting forward, checked
+the wheel for an instant; he shifted hastily. The wheel flew on
+with a jerk, and the thread snapped. "Naughty Rol!" said the girl.
+The swiftest wheel stopped also, and the house-mistress, Rol's
+aunt, leaned forward, and sighting the low curly head, gave a
+warning against mischief, and sent him off to old Trella's corner.
+
+Rol obeyed, and after a discreet period of obedience, sidled out
+again down the length of the room farthest from his aunt's eye. As
+he slipped in among the men, they looked up to see that their
+tools might be, as far as possible, out of reach of Rol's hands,
+and close to their own. Nevertheless, before long he managed to
+secure a fine chisel and take off its point on the leg of the
+table. The carver's strong objections to this disconcerted Rol,
+who for five minutes thereafter effaced himself under the table.
+
+During this seclusion he contemplated the many pairs of legs that
+surrounded him, and almost shut out the light of the fire. How
+very odd some of the legs were: some were curved where they should
+be straight, some were straight where they should be curved, and,
+as Rol said to himself, "they all seemed screwed on differently."
+Some were tucked away modestly under the benches, others were
+thrust far out under the table, encroaching on Rol's own
+particular domain. He stretched out his own short legs and
+regarded them critically, and, after comparison, favourably. Why
+were not all legs made like his, or like _his_?
+
+These legs approved by Rol were a little apart from the rest. He
+crawled opposite and again made comparison. His face grew quite
+solemn as he thought of the innumerable days to come before his
+legs could be as long and strong. He hoped they would be just like
+those, his models, as straight as to bone, as curved as to muscle.
+
+A few moments later Sweyn of the long legs felt a small hand
+caressing his foot, and looking down, met the upturned eyes of his
+little cousin Rol. Lying on his back, still softly patting and
+stroking the young man's foot, the child was quiet and happy for a
+good while. He watched the movement of the strong deft hands, and
+the shifting of the bright tools. Now and then, minute chips of
+wood, puffed off by Sweyn, fell down upon his face. At last he
+raised himself, very gently, lest a jog should wake impatience in
+the carver, and crossing his own legs round Sweyn's ankle,
+clasping with his arms too, laid his head against the knee. Such
+act is evidence of a child's most wonderful hero-worship. Quite
+content was Rol, and more than content when Sweyn paused a minute
+to joke, and pat his head and pull his curls. Quiet he remained,
+as long as quiescence is possible to limbs young as his. Sweyn
+forgot he was near, hardly noticed when his leg was gently
+released, and never saw the stealthy abstraction of one of his
+tools.
+
+[Illustration: Rol's Worship]
+
+Ten minutes thereafter was a lamentable wail from low on the
+floor, rising to the full pitch of Rol's healthy lungs; for his
+hand was gashed across, and the copious bleeding terrified him.
+Then was there soothing and comforting, washing and binding, and a
+modicum of scolding, till the loud outcry sank into occasional
+sobs, and the child, tear-stained and subdued, was returned to the
+chimney-corner settle, where Trella nodded.
+
+In the reaction after pain and fright, Rol found that the quiet of
+that fire-lit corner was to his mind. Tyr, too, disdained him no
+longer, but, roused by his sobs, showed all the concern and
+sympathy that a dog can by licking and wistful watching. A little
+shame weighed also upon his spirits. He wished he had not cried
+quite so much. He remembered how once Sweyn had come home with his
+arm torn down from the shoulder, and a dead bear; and how he had
+never winced nor said a word, though his lips turned white with
+pain. Poor little Rol gave another sighing sob over his own
+faint-hearted shortcomings.
+
+The light and motion of the great fire began to tell strange
+stories to the child, and the wind in the chimney roared a
+corroborative note now and then. The great black mouth of the
+chimney, impending high over the hearth, received as into a
+mysterious gulf murky coils of smoke and brightness of aspiring
+sparks; and beyond, in the high darkness, were muttering and
+wailing and strange doings, so that sometimes the smoke rushed
+back in panic, and curled out and up to the roof, and condensed
+itself to invisibility among the rafters. And then the wind would
+rage after its lost prey, and rush round the house, rattling and
+shrieking at window and door.
+
+In a lull, after one such loud gust, Rol lifted his head in
+surprise and listened. A lull had also come on the babel of talk,
+and thus could be heard with strange distinctness a sound outside
+the door--the sound of a child's voice, a child's hands. "Open,
+open; let me in!" piped the little voice from low down, lower than
+the handle, and the latch rattled as though a tiptoe child reached
+up to it, and soft small knocks were struck. One near the door
+sprang up and opened it. "No one is here," he said. Tyr lifted his
+head and gave utterance to a howl, loud, prolonged, most dismal.
+
+Sweyn, not able to believe that his ears had deceived him, got up
+and went to the door. It was a dark night; the clouds were heavy
+with snow, that had fallen fitfully when the wind lulled.
+Untrodden snow lay up to the porch; there was no sight nor sound
+of any human being. Sweyn strained his eyes far and near, only to
+see dark sky, pure snow, and a line of black fir trees on a hill
+brow, bowing down before the wind. "It must have been the wind,"
+he said, and closed the door.
+
+Many faces looked scared. The sound of a child's voice had been so
+distinct--and the words "Open, open; let me in!" The wind might
+creak the wood, or rattle the latch, but could not speak with a
+child's voice, nor knock with the soft plain blows that a plump
+fist gives. And the strange unusual howl of the wolf-hound was an
+omen to be feared, be the rest what it might. Strange things were
+said by one and another, till the rebuke of the house-mistress
+quelled them into far-off whispers. For a time after there was
+uneasiness, constraint, and silence; then the chill fear thawed by
+degrees, and the babble of talk flowed on again.
+
+Yet half-an-hour later a very slight noise outside the door
+sufficed to arrest every hand, every tongue. Every head was
+raised, every eye fixed in one direction. "It is Christian; he is
+late," said Sweyn.
+
+No, no; this is a feeble shuffle, not a young man's tread. With
+the sound of uncertain feet came the hard tap-tap of a stick
+against the door, and the high-pitched voice of eld, "Open, open;
+let me in!" Again Tyr flung up his head in a long doleful howl.
+
+Before the echo of the tapping stick and the high voice had fairly
+died away, Sweyn had sprung across to the door and flung it wide.
+"No one again," he said in a steady voice, though his eyes looked
+startled as he stared out. He saw the lonely expanse of snow, the
+clouds swagging low, and between the two the line of dark
+fir-trees bowing in the wind. He closed the door without a word of
+comment, and re-crossed the room.
+
+A score of blanched faces were turned to him as though he must be
+solver of the enigma. He could not be unconscious of this mute
+eye-questioning, and it disturbed his resolute air of composure.
+He hesitated, glanced towards his mother, the house-mistress, then
+back at the frightened folk, and gravely, before them all, made
+the sign of the cross. There was a flutter of hands as the sign
+was repeated by all, and the dead silence was stirred as by a huge
+sigh, for the held breath of many was freed as though the sign
+gave magic relief.
+
+Even the house-mistress was perturbed. She left her wheel and
+crossed the room to her son, and spoke with him for a moment in a
+low tone that none could overhear. But a moment later her voice
+was high-pitched and loud, so that all might benefit by her rebuke
+of the "heathen chatter" of one of the girls. Perhaps she essayed
+to silence thus her own misgivings and forebodings.
+
+No other voice dared speak now with its natural fulness. Low tones
+made intermittent murmurs, and now and then silence drifted over
+the whole room. The handling of tools was as noiseless as might
+be, and suspended on the instant if the door rattled in a gust of
+wind. After a time Sweyn left his work, joined the group nearest
+the door, and loitered there on the pretence of giving advice and
+help to the unskilful.
+
+A man's tread was heard outside in the porch. "Christian!" said
+Sweyn and his mother simultaneously, he confidently, she
+authoritatively, to set the checked wheels going again. But Tyr
+flung up his head with an appalling howl.
+
+"Open, open; let me in!"
+
+It was a man's voice, and the door shook and rattled as a man's
+strength beat against it. Sweyn could feel the planks quivering,
+as on the instant his hand was upon the door, flinging it open, to
+face the blank porch, and beyond only snow and sky, and firs
+aslant in the wind.
+
+He stood for a long minute with the open door in his hand. The
+bitter wind swept in with its icy chill, but a deadlier chill of
+fear came swifter, and seemed to freeze the beating of hearts.
+Sweyn stepped back to snatch up a great bearskin cloak.
+
+"Sweyn, where are you going?"
+
+"No farther than the porch, mother," and he stepped out and closed
+the door.
+
+He wrapped himself in the heavy fur, and leaning against the most
+sheltered wall of the porch, steeled his nerves to face the devil
+and all his works. No sound of voices came from within; the most
+distinct sound was the crackle and roar of the fire.
+
+It was bitterly cold. His feet grew numb, but he forbore stamping
+them into warmth lest the sound should strike panic within; nor
+would he leave the porch, nor print a foot-mark on the untrodden
+white that declared so absolutely how no human voices and hands
+could have approached the door since snow fell two hours or more
+ago. "When the wind drops there will be more snow," thought Sweyn.
+
+For the best part of an hour he kept his watch, and saw no living
+thing--heard no unwonted sound. "I will freeze here no longer," he
+muttered, and re-entered.
+
+One woman gave a half-suppressed scream as his hand was laid on
+the latch, and then a gasp of relief as he came in. No one
+questioned him, only his mother said, in a tone of forced
+unconcern, "Could you not see Christian coming?" as though she
+were made anxious only by the absence of her younger son. Hardly
+had Sweyn stamped near to the fire than clear knocking was heard
+at the door. Tyr leapt from the hearth, his eyes red as the fire,
+his fangs showing white in the black jowl, his neck ridged and
+bristling; and overleaping Rol, ramped at the door, barking
+furiously.
+
+Outside the door a clear mellow voice was calling. Tyr's bark made
+the words undistinguishable.
+
+No one offered to stir towards the door before Sweyn.
+
+He stalked down the room resolutely, lifted the latch, and swung
+back the door.
+
+A white-robed woman glided in.
+
+No wraith! Living--beautiful--young.
+
+Tyr leapt upon her.
+
+Lithely she baulked the sharp fangs with folds of her long fur
+robe, and snatching from her girdle a small two-edged axe, whirled
+it up for a blow of defence.
+
+Sweyn caught the dog by the collar, and dragged him off yelling
+and struggling.
+
+The stranger stood in the doorway motionless, one foot set
+forward, one arm flung up, till the house-mistress hurried down
+the room; and Sweyn, relinquishing to others the furious Tyr,
+turned again to close the door, and offer excuse for so fierce a
+greeting. Then she lowered her arm, slung the axe in its place at
+her waist, loosened the furs about her face, and shook over her
+shoulders the long white robe--all as it were with the sway of one
+movement.
+
+She was a maiden, tall and very fair. The fashion of her dress was
+strange, half masculine, yet not unwomanly. A fine fur tunic,
+reaching but little below the knee, was all the skirt she wore;
+below were the cross-bound shoes and leggings that a hunter wears.
+A white fur cap was set low upon the brows, and from its edge
+strips of fur fell lappet-wise about her shoulders; two of these
+at her entrance had been drawn forward and crossed about her
+throat, but now, loosened and thrust back, left unhidden long
+plaits of fair hair that lay forward on shoulder and breast, down
+to the ivory-studded girdle where the axe gleamed.
+
+Sweyn and his mother led the stranger to the hearth without
+question or sign of curiosity, till she voluntarily told her tale
+of a long journey to distant kindred, a promised guide unmet, and
+signals and landmarks mistaken.
+
+"Alone!" exclaimed Sweyn in astonishment. "Have you journeyed thus
+far, a hundred leagues, alone?"
+
+She answered "Yes" with a little smile.
+
+"Over the hills and the wastes! Why, the folk there are savage and
+wild as beasts."
+
+She dropped her hand upon her axe with a laugh of some scorn.
+
+"I fear neither man nor beast; some few fear me." And then she
+told strange tales of fierce attack and defence, and of the bold
+free huntress life she had led.
+
+Her words came a little slowly and deliberately, as though she
+spoke in a scarce familiar tongue; now and then she hesitated, and
+stopped in a phrase, as though for lack of some word.
+
+She became the centre of a group of listeners. The interest she
+excited dissipated, in some degree, the dread inspired by the
+mysterious voices. There was nothing ominous about this young,
+bright, fair reality, though her aspect was strange.
+
+Little Rol crept near, staring at the stranger with all his might.
+Unnoticed, he softly stroked and patted a corner of her soft white
+robe that reached to the floor in ample folds. He laid his cheek
+against it caressingly, and then edged up close to her knees.
+
+"What is your name?" he asked.
+
+The stranger's smile and ready answer, as she looked down, saved
+Rol from the rebuke merited by his unmannerly question.
+
+"My real name," she said, "would be uncouth to your ears and
+tongue. The folk of this country have given me another name, and
+from this" (she laid her hand on the fur robe) "they call me
+'White Fell.'"
+
+Little Rol repeated it to himself, stroking and patting as before.
+"White Fell, White Fell."
+
+The fair face, and soft, beautiful dress pleased Rol. He knelt up,
+with his eyes on her face and an air of uncertain determination,
+like a robin's on a doorstep, and plumped his elbows into her lap
+with a little gasp at his own audacity.
+
+"Rol!" exclaimed his aunt; but, "Oh, let him!" said White Fell,
+smiling and stroking his head; and Rol stayed.
+
+He advanced farther, and panting at his own adventurousness in the
+face of his aunt's authority, climbed up on to her knees. Her
+welcoming arms hindered any protest. He nestled happily, fingering
+the axe head, the ivory studs in her girdle, the ivory clasp at
+her throat, the plaits of fair hair; rubbing his head against the
+softness of her fur-clad shoulder, with a child's full confidence
+in the kindness of beauty.
+
+White Fell had not uncovered her head, only knotted the pendant
+fur loosely behind her neck. Rol reached up his hand towards it,
+whispering her name to himself, "White Fell, White Fell," then
+slid his arms round her neck, and kissed her--once--twice. She
+laughed delightedly, and kissed him again.
+
+"The child plagues you?" said Sweyn.
+
+"No, indeed," she answered, with an earnestness so intense as to
+seem disproportionate to the occasion.
+
+Rol settled himself again on her lap, and began to unwind the
+bandage bound round his hand. He paused a little when he saw where
+the blood had soaked through; then went on till his hand was bare
+and the cut displayed, gaping and long, though only skin deep. He
+held it up towards White Fell, desirous of her pity and sympathy.
+
+At sight of it, and the blood-stained linen, she drew in her
+breath suddenly, clasped Rol to her--hard, hard--till he began to
+struggle. Her face was hidden behind the boy, so that none could
+see its expression. It had lighted up with a most awful glee.
+
+Afar, beyond the fir-grove, beyond the low hill behind, the absent
+Christian was hastening his return. From daybreak he had been
+afoot, carrying notice of a bear hunt to all the best hunters of
+the farms and hamlets that lay within a radius of twelve miles.
+Nevertheless, having been detained till a late hour, he now broke
+into a run, going with a long smooth stride of apparent ease that
+fast made the miles diminish.
+
+He entered the midnight blackness of the fir-grove with scarcely
+slackened pace, though the path was invisible; and passing through
+into the open again, sighted the farm lying a furlong off down the
+slope. Then he sprang out freely, and almost on the instant gave
+one great sideways leap, and stood still. There in the snow was
+the track of a great wolf.
+
+His hand went to his knife, his only weapon. He stooped, knelt
+down, to bring his eyes to the level of a beast, and peered about;
+his teeth set, his heart beat a little harder than the pace of his
+running insisted on. A solitary wolf, nearly always savage and of
+large size, is a formidable beast that will not hesitate to attack
+a single man. This wolf-track was the largest Christian had ever
+seen, and, so far as he could judge, recently made. It led from
+under the fir-trees down the slope. Well for him, he thought, was
+the delay that had so vexed him before: well for him that he had
+not passed through the dark fir-grove when that danger of jaws
+lurked there. Going warily, he followed the track.
+
+It led down the slope, across a broad ice-bound stream, along the
+level beyond, making towards the farm. A less precise knowledge
+had doubted, and guessed that here might have come straying big
+Tyr or his like; but Christian was sure, knowing better than to
+mistake between footmark of dog and wolf.
+
+Straight on--straight on towards the farm.
+
+Surprised and anxious grew Christian, that a prowling wolf should
+dare so near. He drew his knife and pressed on, more hastily, more
+keen-eyed. Oh that Tyr were with him!
+
+Straight on, straight on, even to the very door, where the snow
+failed. His heart seemed to give a great leap and then stop. There
+the track _ended_.
+
+Nothing lurked in the porch, and there was no sign of return. The
+firs stood straight against the sky, the clouds lay low; for the
+wind had fallen and a few snowflakes came drifting down. In a
+horror of surprise, Christian stood dazed a moment: then he lifted
+the latch and went in. His glance took in all the old familiar
+forms and faces, and with them that of the stranger, fur-clad and
+beautiful. The awful truth flashed upon him: he knew what she was.
+
+Only a few were startled by the rattle of the latch as he entered.
+The room was filled with bustle and movement, for it was the
+supper hour, when all tools were laid aside, and trestles and
+tables shifted. Christian had no knowledge of what he said and
+did; he moved and spoke mechanically, half thinking that soon he
+must wake from this horrible dream. Sweyn and his mother supposed
+him to be cold and dead-tired, and spared all unnecessary
+questions. And he found himself seated beside the hearth, opposite
+that dreadful Thing that looked like a beautiful girl; watching
+her every movement, curdling with horror to see her fondle the
+child Rol.
+
+Sweyn stood near them both, intent upon White Fell also; but how
+differently! She seemed unconscious of the gaze of both--neither
+aware of the chill dread in the eyes of Christian, nor of Sweyn's
+warm admiration.
+
+These two brothers, who were twins, contrasted greatly, despite
+their striking likeness. They were alike in regular profile, fair
+brown hair, and deep blue eyes; but Sweyn's features were perfect
+as a young god's, while Christian's showed faulty details. Thus,
+the line of his mouth was set too straight, the eyes shelved too
+deeply back, and the contour of the face flowed in less generous
+curves than Sweyn's. Their height was the same, but Christian was
+too slender for perfect proportion, while Sweyn's well-knit frame,
+broad shoulders, and muscular arms, made him pre-eminent for manly
+beauty as well as for strength. As a hunter Sweyn was without
+rival; as a fisher without rival. All the countryside acknowledged
+him to be the best wrestler, rider, dancer, singer. Only in speed
+could he be surpassed, and in that only by his younger brother.
+All others Sweyn could distance fairly; but Christian could outrun
+him easily. Ay, he could keep pace with Sweyn's most breathless
+burst, and laugh and talk the while. Christian took little pride
+in his fleetness of foot, counting a man's legs to be the least
+worthy of his members. He had no envy of his brother's athletic
+superiority, though to several feats he had made a moderate
+second. He loved as only a twin can love--proud of all that Sweyn
+did, content with all that Sweyn was; humbly content also that his
+own great love should not be so exceedingly returned, since he
+knew himself to be so far less love-worthy.
+
+Christian dared not, in the midst of women and children, launch
+the horror that he knew into words. He waited to consult his
+brother; but Sweyn did not, or would not, notice the signal he
+made, and kept his face always turned towards White Fell.
+Christian drew away from the hearth, unable to remain passive with
+that dread upon him.
+
+"Where is Tyr?" he said suddenly. Then, catching sight of the dog
+in a distant corner, "Why is he chained there?"
+
+"He flew at the stranger," one answered.
+
+Christian's eyes glowed. "Yes?" he said, interrogatively.
+
+"He was within an ace of having his brain knocked out."
+
+"Tyr?"
+
+"Yes; she was nimbly up with that little axe she has at her waist.
+It was well for old Tyr that his master throttled him off."
+
+Christian went without a word to the corner where Tyr was chained.
+The dog rose up to meet him, as piteous and indignant as a dumb
+beast can be. He stroked the black head. "Good Tyr! brave dog!"
+
+They knew, they only; and the man and the dumb dog had comfort of
+each other.
+
+Christian's eyes turned again towards White Fell: Tyr's also, and
+he strained against the length of the chain. Christian's hand lay
+on the dog's neck, and he felt it ridge and bristle with the
+quivering of impotent fury. Then he began to quiver in like
+manner, with a fury born of reason, not instinct; as impotent
+morally as was Tyr physically. Oh! the woman's form that he dare
+not touch! Anything but that, and he with Tyr would be free to
+kill or be killed.
+
+Then he returned to ask fresh questions.
+
+"How long has the stranger been here?"
+
+"She came about half-an-hour before you."
+
+"Who opened the door to her?"
+
+"Sweyn: no one else dared."
+
+The tone of the answer was mysterious.
+
+"Why?" queried Christian. "Has anything strange happened? Tell
+me."
+
+For answer he was told in a low undertone of the summons at the
+door thrice repeated without human agency; and of Tyr's ominous
+howls; and of Sweyn's fruitless watch outside.
+
+Christian turned towards his brother in a torment of impatience
+for a word apart. The board was spread, and Sweyn was leading
+White Fell to the guest's place. This was more awful: she would
+break bread with them under the roof-tree!
+
+He started forward, and touching Sweyn's arm, whispered an urgent
+entreaty. Sweyn stared, and shook his head in angry impatience.
+
+Thereupon Christian would take no morsel of food.
+
+His opportunity came at last. White Fell questioned of the
+landmarks of the country, and of one Cairn Hill, which was an
+appointed meeting-place at which she was due that night. The
+house-mistress and Sweyn both exclaimed.
+
+"It is three long miles away," said Sweyn; "with no place for
+shelter but a wretched hut. Stay with us this night, and I will
+show you the way to-morrow."
+
+White Fell seemed to hesitate. "Three miles," she said; "then I
+should be able to see or hear a signal."
+
+"I will look out," said Sweyn; "then, if there be no signal, you
+must not leave us."
+
+He went to the door. Christian rose silently, and followed him
+out.
+
+"Sweyn, do you know what she is?"
+
+Sweyn, surprised at the vehement grasp, and low hoarse voice, made
+answer:
+
+"She? Who? White Fell?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"She is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen."
+
+"She is a Were-Wolf."
+
+Sweyn burst out laughing. "Are you mad?" he asked.
+
+"No; here, see for yourself."
+
+Christian drew him out of the porch, pointing to the snow where
+the footmarks had been. Had been, for now they were not. Snow was
+falling fast, and every dint was blotted out.
+
+"Well?" asked Sweyn.
+
+"Had you come when I signed to you, you would have seen for
+yourself."
+
+"Seen what?"
+
+"The footprints of a wolf leading up to the door; none leading
+away."
+
+It was impossible not to be startled by the tone alone, though it
+was hardly above a whisper. Sweyn eyed his brother anxiously, but
+in the darkness could make nothing of his face. Then he laid his
+hands kindly and re-assuringly on Christian's shoulders and felt
+how he was quivering with excitement and horror.
+
+"One sees strange things," he said, "when the cold has got into
+the brain behind the eyes; you came in cold and worn out."
+
+"No," interrupted Christian. "I saw the track first on the brow of
+the slope, and followed it down right here to the door. This is no
+delusion."
+
+Sweyn in his heart felt positive that it was. Christian was given
+to day-dreams and strange fancies, though never had he been
+possessed with so mad a notion before.
+
+"Don't you believe me?" said Christian desperately. "You must. I
+swear it is sane truth. Are you blind? Why, even Tyr knows."
+
+"You will be clearer headed to-morrow after a night's rest. Then
+come too, if you will, with White Fell, to the Hill Cairn; and if
+you have doubts still, watch and follow, and see what footprints
+she leaves."
+
+Galled by Sweyn's evident contempt Christian turned abruptly to
+the door. Sweyn caught him back.
+
+"What now, Christian? What are you going to do?"
+
+"You do not believe me; my mother shall."
+
+Sweyn's grasp tightened. "You shall not tell her," he said
+authoritatively.
+
+Customarily Christian was so docile to his brother's mastery that
+it was now a surprising thing when he wrenched himself free
+vigorously, and said as determinedly as Sweyn, "She shall know!"
+but Sweyn was nearer the door and would not let him pass.
+
+"There has been scare enough for one night already. If this notion
+of yours will keep, broach it to-morrow." Christian would not
+yield.
+
+"Women are so easily scared," pursued Sweyn, "and are ready to
+believe any folly without shadow of proof. Be a man, Christian,
+and fight this notion of a Were-Wolf by yourself."
+
+"If you would believe me," began Christian.
+
+"I believe you to be a fool," said Sweyn, losing patience.
+"Another, who was not your brother, might believe you to be a
+knave, and guess that you had transformed White Fell into a
+Were-Wolf because she smiled more readily on me than on you."
+
+The jest was not without foundation, for the grace of White Fell's
+bright looks had been bestowed on him, on Christian never a whit.
+Sweyn's coxcombery was always frank, and most forgiveable, and not
+without fair colour.
+
+"If you want an ally," continued Sweyn, "confide in old Trella.
+Out of her stores of wisdom, if her memory holds good, she can
+instruct you in the orthodox manner of tackling a Were-Wolf. If I
+remember aright, you should watch the suspected person till
+midnight, when the beast's form must be resumed, and retained ever
+after if a human eye sees the change; or, better still, sprinkle
+hands and feet with holy water, which is certain death. Oh! never
+fear, but old Trella will be equal to the occasion."
+
+Sweyn's contempt was no longer good-humoured; some touch of
+irritation or resentment rose at this monstrous doubt of White
+Fell. But Christian was too deeply distressed to take offence.
+
+"You speak of them as old wives' tales; but if you had seen the
+proof I have seen, you would be ready at least to wish them true,
+if not also to put them to the test."
+
+"Well," said Sweyn, with a laugh that had a little sneer in it,
+"put them to the test! I will not object to that, if you will only
+keep your notions to yourself. Now, Christian, give me your word
+for silence, and we will freeze here no longer."
+
+Christian remained silent.
+
+Sweyn put his hands on his shoulders again and vainly tried to see
+his face in the darkness.
+
+"We have never quarrelled yet, Christian?"
+
+"I have never quarrelled," returned the other, aware for the first
+time that his dictatorial brother had sometimes offered occasion
+for quarrel, had he been ready to take it.
+
+"Well," said Sweyn emphatically, "if you speak against White Fell
+to any other, as to-night you have spoken to me--we shall."
+
+He delivered the words like an ultimatum, turned sharp round, and
+re-entered the house. Christian, more fearful and wretched than
+before, followed.
+
+"Snow is falling fast: not a single light is to be seen."
+
+White Fell's eyes passed over Christian without apparent notice,
+and turned bright and shining upon Sweyn.
+
+"Nor any signal to be heard?" she queried. "Did you not hear the
+sound of a sea-horn?"
+
+"I saw nothing, and heard nothing; and signal or no signal, the
+heavy snow would keep you here perforce."
+
+She smiled her thanks beautifully. And Christian's heart sank like
+lead with a deadly foreboding, as he noted what a light was
+kindled in Sweyn's eyes by her smile.
+
+That night, when all others slept, Christian, the weariest of all,
+watched outside the guest-chamber till midnight was past. No
+sound, not the faintest, could be heard. Could the old tale be
+true of the midnight change? What was on the other side of the
+door, a woman or a beast? he would have given his right hand to
+know. Instinctively he laid his hand on the latch, and drew it
+softly, though believing that bolts fastened the inner side. The
+door yielded to his hand; he stood on the threshold; a keen gust
+of air cut at him; the window stood open; the room was empty.
+
+So Christian could sleep with a somewhat lightened heart.
+
+In the morning there was surprise and conjecture when White Fell's
+absence was discovered. Christian held his peace. Not even to his
+brother did he say how he knew that she had fled before midnight;
+and Sweyn, though evidently greatly chagrined, seemed to disdain
+reference to the subject of Christian's fears.
+
+The elder brother alone joined the bear hunt; Christian found
+pretext to stay behind. Sweyn, being out of humour, manifested his
+contempt by uttering not a single expostulation.
+
+All that day, and for many a day after, Christian would never go
+out of sight of his home. Sweyn alone noticed how he manoeuvred for
+this, and was clearly annoyed by it. White Fell's name was never
+mentioned between them, though not seldom was it heard in general
+talk. Hardly a day passed but little Rol asked when White Fell
+would come again: pretty White Fell, who kissed like a snowflake.
+And if Sweyn answered, Christian would be quite sure that the
+light in his eyes, kindled by White Fell's smile, had not yet died
+out.
+
+Little Rol! Naughty, merry, fairhaired little Rol. A day came when
+his feet raced over the threshold never to return; when his
+chatter and laugh were heard no more; when tears of anguish were
+wept by eyes that never would see his bright head again: never
+again, living or dead.
+
+He was seen at dusk for the last time, escaping from the house
+with his puppy, in freakish rebellion against old Trella. Later,
+when his absence had begun to cause anxiety, his puppy crept back
+to the farm, cowed, whimpering and yelping, a pitiful, dumb lump
+of terror, without intelligence or courage to guide the frightened
+search.
+
+Rol was never found, nor any trace of him. Where he had perished
+was never known; how he had perished was known only by an awful
+guess--a wild beast had devoured him.
+
+Christian heard the conjecture "a wolf"; and a horrible certainty
+flashed upon him that he knew what wolf it was. He tried to
+declare what he knew, but Sweyn saw him start at the words with
+white face and struggling lips; and, guessing his purpose, pulled
+him back, and kept him silent, hardly, by his imperious grip and
+wrathful eyes, and one low whisper.
+
+That Christian should retain his most irrational suspicion against
+beautiful White Fell was, to Sweyn, evidence of a weak obstinacy
+of mind that would but thrive upon expostulation and argument. But
+this evident intention to direct the passions of grief and anguish
+to a hatred and fear of the fair stranger, such as his own, was
+intolerable, and Sweyn set his will against it. Again Christian
+yielded to his brother's stronger words and will, and against his
+own judgment consented to silence.
+
+Repentance came before the new moon, the first of the year, was
+old. White Fell came again, smiling as she entered, as though
+assured of a glad and kindly welcome; and, in truth, there was
+only one who saw again her fair face and strange white garb
+without pleasure. Sweyn's face glowed with delight, while
+Christian's grew pale and rigid as death. He had given his word to
+keep silence; but he had not thought that she would dare to come
+again. Silence was impossible, face to face with that Thing,
+impossible. Irrepressibly he cried out:
+
+"Where is Rol?"
+
+Not a quiver disturbed White Fell's face. She heard, yet remained
+bright and tranquil. Sweyn's eyes flashed round at his brother
+dangerously. Among the women some tears fell at the poor child's
+name; but none caught alarm from its sudden utterance, for the
+thought of Rol rose naturally. Where was little Rol, who had
+nestled in the stranger's arms, kissing her; and watched for her
+since; and prattled of her daily?
+
+Christian went out silently. One only thing there was that he
+could do, and he must not delay. His horror overmastered any
+curiosity to hear White Fell's smooth excuses and smiling
+apologies for her strange and uncourteous departure; or her easy
+tale of the circumstances of her return; or to watch her bearing
+as she heard the sad tale of little Rol.
+
+The swiftest runner of the country-side had started on his hardest
+race: little less than three leagues and back, which he reckoned
+to accomplish in two hours, though the night was moonless and the
+way rugged. He rushed against the still cold air till it felt like
+a wind upon his face. The dim homestead sank below the ridges at
+his back, and fresh ridges of snowlands rose out of the obscure
+horizon-level to drive past him as the stirless air drove, and
+sink away behind into obscure level again. He took no conscious
+heed of landmarks, not even when all sign of a path was gone under
+depths of snow. His will was set to reach his goal with unexampled
+speed; and thither by instinct his physical forces bore him,
+without one definite thought to guide.
+
+And the idle brain lay passive, inert, receiving into its vacancy
+restless siftings of past sights and sounds: Rol, weeping,
+laughing, playing, coiled in the arms of that dreadful Thing:
+Tyr--O Tyr!--white fangs in the black jowl: the women who wept on
+The foolish puppy, precious for the child's last touch: footprints
+from pine wood to door: the smiling face among furs, of such
+womanly beauty--smiling--smiling: and Sweyn's face.
+
+"Sweyn, Sweyn, O Sweyn, my brother!"
+
+Sweyn's angry laugh possessed his ear within the sound of the wind
+of his speed; Sweyn's scorn assailed more quick and keen than the
+biting cold at his throat. And yet he was unimpressed by any
+thought of how Sweyn's anger and scorn would rise, if this errand
+were known.
+
+Sweyn was a sceptic. His utter disbelief in Christian's testimony
+regarding the footprints was based upon positive scepticism. His
+reason refused to bend in accepting the possibility of the
+supernatural materialised. That a living beast could ever be other
+than palpably bestial--pawed, toothed, shagged, and eared as such,
+was to him incredible; far more that a human presence could be
+transformed from its god-like aspect, upright, free-handed, with
+brows, and speech, and laughter. The wild and fearful legends that
+he had known from childhood and then believed, he regarded now as
+built upon facts distorted, overlaid by imagination, and quickened
+by superstition. Even the strange summons at the threshold, that
+he himself had vainly answered, was, after the first shock of
+surprise, rationally explained by him as malicious foolery on the
+part of some clever trickster, who withheld the key to the enigma.
+
+To the younger brother all life was a spiritual mystery, veiled
+from his clear knowledge by the density of flesh. Since he knew
+his own body to be linked to the complex and antagonistic forces
+that constitute one soul, it seemed to him not impossibly strange
+that one spiritual force should possess divers forms for widely
+various manifestation. Nor, to him, was it great effort to believe
+that as pure water washes away all natural foulness, so water,
+holy by consecration, must needs cleanse God's world from that
+supernatural evil Thing. Therefore, faster than ever man's foot
+had covered those leagues, he sped under the dark, still night,
+over the waste, trackless snow-ridges to the far-away church,
+where salvation lay in the holy-water stoup at the door. His faith
+was as firm as any that wrought miracles in days past, simple as a
+child's wish, strong as a man's will.
+
+He was hardly missed during these hours, every second of which was
+by him fulfilled to its utmost extent by extremest effort that
+sinews and nerves could attain. Within the homestead the while,
+the easy moments went bright with words and looks of unwonted
+animation, for the kindly, hospitable instincts of the inmates
+were roused into cordial expression of welcome and interest by the
+grace and beauty of the returned stranger.
+
+But Sweyn was eager and earnest, with more than a host's courteous
+warmth. The impression that at her first coming had charmed him,
+that had lived since through memory, deepened now in her actual
+presence. Sweyn, the matchless among men, acknowledged in this
+fair White Fell a spirit high and bold as his own, and a frame so
+firm and capable that only bulk was lacking for equal strength.
+Yet the white skin was moulded most smoothly, without such
+muscular swelling as made his might evident. Such love as his
+frank self-love could concede was called forth by an ardent
+admiration for this supreme stranger. More admiration than love
+was in his passion, and therefore he was free from a lover's
+hesitancy and delicate reserve and doubts. Frankly and boldly he
+courted her favour by looks and tones, and an address that came of
+natural ease, needless of skill by practice.
+
+Nor was she a woman to be wooed otherwise. Tender whispers and
+sighs would never gain her ear; but her eyes would brighten and
+shine if she heard of a brave feat, and her prompt hand in
+sympathy fall swiftly on the axe-haft and clasp it hard. That
+movement ever fired Sweyn's admiration anew; he watched for it,
+strove to elicit it, and glowed when it came. Wonderful and
+beautiful was that wrist, slender and steel-strong; also the
+smooth shapely hand, that curved so fast and firm, ready to deal
+instant death.
+
+Desiring to feel the pressure of these hands, this bold lover
+schemed with palpable directness, proposing that she should hear
+how their hunting songs were sung, with a chorus that signalled
+hands to be clasped. So his splendid voice gave the verses, and,
+as the chorus was taken up, he claimed her hands, and, even
+through the easy grip, felt, as he desired, the strength that was
+latent, and the vigour that quickened the very fingertips, as the
+song fired her, and her voice was caught out of her by the
+rhythmic swell, and rang clear on the top of the closing surge.
+
+Afterwards she sang alone. For contrast, or in the pride of
+swaying moods by her voice, she chose a mournful song that drifted
+along in a minor chant, sad as a wind that dirges:
+
+  "Oh, let me go!
+  Around spin wreaths of snow;
+  The dark earth sleeps below.
+
+  "Far up the plain
+  Moans on a voice of pain:
+  'Where shall my babe be lain?'
+
+  "In my white breast
+  Lay the sweet life to rest!
+  Lay, where it can lie best!
+
+  "'Hush! hush its cries!
+  Dense night is on the skies:
+  Two stars are in thine eyes.'
+
+  "Come, babe, away!
+  But lie thou till dawn be grey,
+  Who must be dead by day.
+
+  "This cannot last;
+  But, ere the sickening blast,
+  All sorrow shall be past;
+
+  "And kings shall be
+  Low bending at thy knee,
+  Worshipping life from thee.
+
+  "For men long sore
+  To hope of what's before,--
+  To leave the things of yore.
+
+  "Mine, and not thine,
+  How deep their jewels shine!
+  Peace laps thy head, not mine."
+
+
+Old Trella came tottering from her corner, shaken to additional
+palsy by an aroused memory. She strained her dim eyes towards the
+singer, and then bent her head, that the one ear yet sensible to
+sound might avail of every note. At the close, groping forward,
+she murmured with the high-pitched quaver of old age:
+
+"So she sang, my Thora; my last and brightest. What is she like,
+she whose voice is like my dead Thora's? Are her eyes blue?"
+
+"Blue as the sky."
+
+"So were my Thora's! Is her hair fair, and in plaits to the
+waist?" "Even so," answered White Fell herself, and met the
+advancing hands with her own, and guided them to corroborate her
+words by touch.
+
+"Like my dead Thora's," repeated the old woman; and then her
+trembling hands rested on the fur-clad shoulders, and she bent
+forward and kissed the smooth fair face that White Fell upturned,
+nothing loth, to receive and return the caress.
+
+So Christian saw them as he entered.
+
+He stood a moment. After the starless darkness and the icy night
+air, and the fierce silent two hours' race, his senses reeled on
+sudden entrance into warmth, and light, and the cheery hum of
+voices. A sudden unforeseen anguish assailed him, as now first he
+entertained the possibility of being overmatched by her wiles and
+her daring, if at the approach of pure death she should start up
+at bay transformed to a terrible beast, and achieve a savage glut
+at the last. He looked with horror and pity on the harmless,
+helpless folk, so unwitting of outrage to their comfort and
+security. The dreadful Thing in their midst, that was veiled from
+their knowledge by womanly beauty, was a centre of pleasant
+interest. There, before him, signally impressive, was poor old
+Trella, weakest and feeblest of all, in fond nearness. And a
+moment might bring about the revelation of a monstrous horror--a
+ghastly, deadly danger, set loose and at bay, in a circle of girls
+and women and careless defenceless men: so hideous and terrible a
+thing as might crack the brain, or curdle the heart stone dead.
+
+And he alone of the throng prepared!
+
+[Illustration: White Fell's Escape]
+
+For one breathing space he faltered, no longer than that, while
+over him swept the agony of compunction that yet could not make
+him surrender his purpose.
+
+He alone? Nay, but Tyr also; and he crossed to the dumb sole
+sharer of his knowledge.
+
+So timeless is thought that a few seconds only lay between his
+lifting of the latch and his loosening of Tyr's collar; but in
+those few seconds succeeding his first glance, as lightning-swift
+had been the impulses of others, their motion as quick and sure.
+Sweyn's vigilant eye had darted upon him, and instantly his every
+fibre was alert with hostile instinct; and, half divining, half
+incredulous, of Christian's object in stooping to Tyr, he came
+hastily, wary, wrathful, resolute to oppose the malice of his
+wild-eyed brother.
+
+But beyond Sweyn rose White Fell, blanching white as her furs, and
+with eyes grown fierce and wild. She leapt down the room to the
+door, whirling her long robe closely to her. "Hark!" she panted.
+"The signal horn! Hark, I must go!" as she snatched at the latch
+to be out and away.
+
+For one precious moment Christian had hesitated on the
+half-loosened collar; for, except the womanly form were exchanged
+for the bestial, Tyr's jaws would gnash to rags his honour of
+manhood. Then he heard her voice, and turned--too late.
+
+As she tugged at the door, he sprang across grasping his flask,
+but Sweyn dashed between, and caught him back irresistibly, so
+that a most frantic effort only availed to wrench one arm free.
+With that, on the impulse of sheer despair, he cast at her with
+all his force. The door swung behind her, and the flask flew into
+fragments against it. Then, as Sweyn's grasp slackened, and he met
+the questioning astonishment of surrounding faces, with a hoarse
+inarticulate cry: "God help us all!" he said. "She is a
+Were-Wolf."
+
+Sweyn turned upon him, "Liar, coward!" and his hands gripped his
+brother's throat with deadly force, as though the spoken word
+could be killed so; and as Christian struggled, lifted him clear
+off his feet and flung him crashing backward. So furious was he,
+that, as his brother lay motionless, he stirred him roughly with
+his foot, till their mother came between, crying shame; and yet
+then he stood by, his teeth set, his brows knit, his hands
+clenched, ready to enforce silence again violently, as Christian
+rose staggering and bewildered.
+
+But utter silence and submission were more than he expected, and
+turned his anger into contempt for one so easily cowed and held in
+subjection by mere force. "He is mad!" he said, turning on his
+heel as he spoke, so that he lost his mother's look of pained
+reproach at this sudden free utterance of what was a lurking dread
+within her.
+
+Christian was too spent for the effort of speech. His hard-drawn
+breath laboured in great sobs; his limbs were powerless and
+unstrung in utter relax after hard service. Failure in his
+endeavour induced a stupor of misery and despair. In addition was
+the wretched humiliation of open violence and strife with his
+brother, and the distress of hearing misjudging contempt expressed
+without reserve; for he was aware that Sweyn had turned to allay
+the scared excitement half by imperious mastery, half by
+explanation and argument, that showed painful disregard of
+brotherly consideration. All this unkindness of his twin he
+charged upon the fell Thing who had wrought this their first
+dissension, and, ah! most terrible thought, interposed between
+them so effectually, that Sweyn was wilfully blind and deaf on her
+account, resentful of interference, arbitrary beyond reason.
+
+Dread and perplexity unfathomable darkened upon him; unshared, the
+burden was overwhelming: a foreboding of unspeakable calamity,
+based upon his ghastly discovery, bore down upon him, crushing out
+hope of power to withstand impending fate.
+
+Sweyn the while was observant of his brother, despite the
+continual check of finding, turn and glance when he would,
+Christian's eyes always upon him, with a strange look of helpless
+distress, discomposing enough to the angry aggressor. "Like a
+beaten dog!" he said to himself, rallying contempt to withstand
+compunction. Observation set him wondering on Christian's
+exhausted condition. The heavy labouring breath and the slack
+inert fall of the limbs told surely of unusual and prolonged
+exertion. And then why had close upon two hours' absence been
+followed by open hostility against White Fell?
+
+Suddenly, the fragments of the flask giving a clue, he guessed
+all, and faced about to stare at his brother in amaze. He forgot
+that the motive scheme was against White Fell, demanding derision
+and resentment from him; that was swept out of remembrance by
+astonishment and admiration for the feat of speed and endurance.
+In eagerness to question he inclined to attempt a generous part
+and frankly offer to heal the breach; but Christian's depression
+and sad following gaze provoked him to self-justification by
+recalling the offence of that outrageous utterance against White
+Fell; and the impulse passed. Then other considerations counselled
+silence; and afterwards a humour possessed him to wait and see how
+Christian would find opportunity to proclaim his performance and
+establish the fact, without exciting ridicule on account of the
+absurdity of the errand.
+
+This expectation remained unfulfilled. Christian never attempted
+the proud avowal that would have placed his feat on record to be
+told to the next generation.
+
+That night Sweyn and his mother talked long and late together,
+shaping into certainty the suspicion that Christian's mind had
+lost its balance, and discussing the evident cause. For Sweyn,
+declaring his own love for White Fell, suggested that his
+unfortunate brother, with a like passion, they being twins in
+loves as in birth, had through jealousy and despair turned from
+love to hate, until reason failed at the strain, and a craze
+developed, which the malice and treachery of madness made a
+serious and dangerous force.
+
+So Sweyn theorised, convincing himself as he spoke; convincing
+afterwards others who advanced doubts against White Fell;
+fettering his judgment by his advocacy, and by his staunch defence
+of her hurried flight silencing his own inner consciousness of the
+unaccountability of her action.
+
+But a little time and Sweyn lost his vantage in the shock of a
+fresh horror at the homestead. Trella was no more, and her end a
+mystery. The poor old woman crawled out in a bright gleam to visit
+a bed-ridden gossip living beyond the fir-grove. Under the trees
+she was last seen, halting for her companion, sent back for a
+forgotten present. Quick alarm sprang, calling every man to the
+search. Her stick was found among the brushwood only a few paces
+from the path, but no track or stain, for a gusty wind was sifting
+the snow from the branches, and hid all sign of how she came by
+her death.
+
+So panic-stricken were the farm folk that none dared go singly on
+the search. Known danger could be braced, but not this stealthy
+Death that walked by day invisible, that cut off alike the child
+in his play and the aged woman so near to her quiet grave.
+
+"Rol she kissed; Trella she kissed!" So rang Christian's frantic
+cry again and again, till Sweyn dragged him away and strove to
+keep him apart, albeit in his agony of grief and remorse he
+accused himself wildly as answerable for the tragedy, and gave
+clear proof that the charge of madness was well founded, if
+strange looks and desperate, incoherent words were evidence
+enough.
+
+But thenceforward all Sweyn's reasoning and mastery could not
+uphold White Fell above suspicion. He was not called upon to
+defend her from accusation when Christian had been brought to
+silence again; but he well knew the significance of this fact,
+that her name, formerly uttered freely and often, he never heard
+now: it was huddled away into whispers that he could not catch.
+
+The passing of time did not sweep away the superstitious fears
+that Sweyn despised. He was angry and anxious; eager that White
+Fell should return, and, merely by her bright gracious presence,
+reinstate herself in favour; but doubtful if all his authority and
+example could keep from her notice an altered aspect of welcome;
+and he foresaw clearly that Christian would prove unmanageable,
+and might be capable of some dangerous outbreak.
+
+For a time the twins' variance was marked, on Sweyn's part by an
+air of rigid indifference, on Christian's by heavy downcast
+silence, and a nervous apprehensive observation of his brother.
+Superadded to his remorse and foreboding, Sweyn's displeasure
+weighed upon him intolerably, and the remembrance of their violent
+rupture was a ceaseless misery. The elder brother, self-sufficient
+and insensitive, could little know how deeply his unkindness
+stabbed. A depth and force of affection such as Christian's was
+unknown to him. The loyal subservience that he could not
+appreciate had encouraged him to domineer; this strenuous
+opposition to his reason and will was accounted as furious malice,
+if not sheer insanity.
+
+Christian's surveillance galled him incessantly, and embarrassment
+and danger he foresaw as the outcome. Therefore, that suspicion
+might be lulled, he judged it wise to make overtures for peace.
+Most easily done. A little kindliness, a few evidences of
+consideration, a slight return of the old brotherly imperiousness,
+and Christian replied by a gratefulness and relief that might have
+touched him had he understood all, but instead, increased his
+secret contempt.
+
+So successful was this finesse, that when, late on a day, a
+message summoning Christian to a distance was transmitted by
+Sweyn, no doubt of its genuineness occurred. When, his errand
+proved useless, he set out to return, mistake or misapprehension
+was all that he surmised. Not till he sighted the homestead, lying
+low between the night-grey snow ridges, did vivid recollection of
+the time when he had tracked that horror to the door rouse an
+intense dread, and with it a hardly-defined suspicion.
+
+His grasp tightened on the bear-spear that he carried as a staff;
+every sense was alert, every muscle strung; excitement urged him
+on, caution checked him, and the two governed his long stride,
+swiftly, noiselessly, to the climax he felt was at hand.
+
+As he drew near to the outer gates, a light shadow stirred and
+went, as though the grey of the snow had taken detached motion. A
+darker shadow stayed and faced Christian, striking his life-blood
+chill with utmost despair.
+
+Sweyn stood before him, and surely, the shadow that went was White
+Fell.
+
+They had been together--close. Had she not been in his arms, near
+enough for lips to meet?
+
+There was no moon, but the stars gave light enough to show that
+Sweyn's face was flushed and elate. The flush remained, though the
+expression changed quickly at sight of his brother. How, if
+Christian had seen all, should one of his frenzied outbursts be
+met and managed: by resolution? by indifference? He halted between
+the two, and as a result, he swaggered.
+
+"White Fell?" questioned Christian, hoarse and breathless.
+
+"Yes?"
+
+Sweyn's answer was a query, with an intonation that implied he was
+clearing the ground for action.
+
+From Christian came: "Have you kissed her?" like a bolt direct,
+staggering Sweyn by its sheer prompt temerity.
+
+He flushed yet darker, and yet half-smiled over this earnest of
+success he had won. Had there been really between himself and
+Christian the rivalry that he imagined, his face had enough of the
+insolence of triumph to exasperate jealous rage.
+
+"You dare ask this!"
+
+"Sweyn, O Sweyn, I must know! You have!"
+
+The ring of despair and anguish in his tone angered Sweyn,
+misconstruing it. Jealousy urging to such presumption was
+intolerable.
+
+"Mad fool!" he said, constraining himself no longer. "Win for
+yourself a woman to kiss. Leave mine without question. Such an one
+as I should desire to kiss is such an one as shall never allow a
+kiss to you."
+
+Then Christian fully understood his supposition.
+
+"I--I!" he cried. "White Fell--that deadly Thing! Sweyn, are you
+blind, mad? I would save you from her: a Were-Wolf!"
+
+Sweyn maddened again at the accusation--a dastardly way of
+revenge, as he conceived; and instantly, for the second time, the
+brothers were at strife violently.
+
+But Christian was now too desperate to be scrupulous; for a dim
+glimpse had shot a possibility into his mind, and to be free to
+follow it the striking of his brother was a necessity. Thank God!
+he was armed, and so Sweyn's equal.
+
+[Illustration: The Race]
+
+Facing his assailant with the bear-spear, he struck up his arms,
+and with the butt end hit hard so that he fell. The matchless
+runner leapt away on the instant, to follow a forlorn hope.
+Sweyn, on regaining his feet, was as amazed as angry at this
+unaccountable flight. He knew in his heart that his brother was no
+coward, and that it was unlike him to shrink from an encounter
+because defeat was certain, and cruel humiliation from a
+vindictive victor probable. Of the uselessness of pursuit he was
+well aware: he must abide his chagrin, content to know that his
+time for advantage would come. Since White Fell had parted to the
+right, Christian to the left, the event of a sequent encounter did
+not occur to him. And now Christian, acting on the dim glimpse he
+had had, just as Sweyn turned upon him, of something that moved
+against the sky along the ridge behind the homestead, was staking
+his only hope on a chance, and his own superlative speed. If what
+he saw was really White Fell, he guessed she was bending her steps
+towards the open wastes; and there was just a possibility that, by
+a straight dash, and a desperate perilous leap over a sheer bluff,
+he might yet meet her or head her. And then: he had no further
+thought.
+
+It was past, the quick, fierce race, and the chance of death at
+the leap; and he halted in a hollow to fetch his breath and to
+look: did she come? had she gone?
+
+She came.
+
+She came with a smooth, gliding, noiseless speed, that was neither
+walking nor running; her arms were folded in her furs that were
+drawn tight about her body; the white lappets from her head were
+wrapped and knotted closely beneath her face; her eyes were set on
+a far distance. So she went till the even sway of her going was
+startled to a pause by Christian.
+
+"Fell!"
+
+She drew a quick, sharp breath at the sound of her name thus
+mutilated, and faced Sweyn's brother. Her eyes glittered; her
+upper lip was lifted, and shewed the teeth. The half of her name,
+impressed with an ominous sense as uttered by him, warned her of
+the aspect of a deadly foe. Yet she cast loose her robes till they
+trailed ample, and spoke as a mild woman.
+
+"What would you?"
+
+Then Christian answered with his solemn dreadful accusation:
+
+"You kissed Rol--and Rol is dead! You kissed Trella: she is dead!
+You have kissed Sweyn, my brother; but he shall not die!"
+
+He added: "You may live till midnight."
+
+The edge of the teeth and the glitter of the eyes stayed a moment,
+and her right hand also slid down to the axe haft. Then, without a
+word, she swerved from him, and sprang out and away swiftly over
+the snow.
+
+And Christian sprang out and away, and followed her swiftly over
+the snow, keeping behind, but half-a-stride's length from her
+side.
+
+So they went running together, silent, towards the vast wastes of
+snow, where no living thing but they two moved under the stars of
+night.
+
+Never before had Christian so rejoiced in his powers. The gift of
+speed, and the training of use and endurance were priceless to him
+now. Though midnight was hours away, he was confident that, go
+where that Fell Thing would, hasten as she would, she could not
+outstrip him nor escape from him. Then, when came the time for
+transformation, when the woman's form made no longer a shield
+against a man's hand, he could slay or be slain to save Sweyn. He
+had struck his dear brother in dire extremity, but he could not,
+though reason urged, strike a woman.
+
+For one mile, for two miles they ran: White Fell ever foremost,
+Christian ever at equal distance from her side, so near that, now
+and again, her out-flying furs touched him. She spoke no word; nor
+he. She never turned her head to look at him, nor swerved to evade
+him; but, with set face looking forward, sped straight on, over
+rough, over smooth, aware of his nearness by the regular beat of
+his feet, and the sound of his breath behind.
+
+In a while she quickened her pace. From the first, Christian had
+judged of her speed as admirable, yet with exulting security in
+his own excelling and enduring whatever her efforts. But, when the
+pace increased, he found himself put to the test as never had he
+been before in any race. Her feet, indeed, flew faster than his;
+it was only by his length of stride that he kept his place at her
+side. But his heart was high and resolute, and he did not fear
+failure yet.
+
+So the desperate race flew on. Their feet struck up the powdery
+snow, their breath smoked into the sharp clear air, and they were
+gone before the air was cleared of snow and vapour. Now and then
+Christian glanced up to judge, by the rising of the stars, of the
+coming of midnight. So long--so long!
+
+White Fell held on without slack. She, it was evident, with
+confidence in her speed proving matchless, as resolute to outrun
+her pursuer as he to endure till midnight and fulfil his purpose.
+And Christian held on, still self-assured. He could not fail; he
+would not fail. To avenge Rol and Trella was motive enough for him
+to do what man could do; but for Sweyn more. She had kissed Sweyn,
+but he should not die too: with Sweyn to save he could not fail.
+
+Never before was such a race as this; no, not when in old Greece
+man and maid raced together with two fates at stake; for the hard
+running was sustained unabated, while star after star rose and
+went wheeling up towards midnight, for one hour, for two hours.
+
+Then Christian saw and heard what shot him through with fear.
+Where a fringe of trees hung round a slope he saw something dark
+moving, and heard a yelp, followed by a full horrid cry, and the
+dark spread out upon the snow, a pack of wolves in pursuit.
+
+Of the beasts alone he had little cause for fear; at the pace he
+held he could distance them, four-footed though they were. But of
+White Fell's wiles he had infinite apprehension, for how might she
+not avail herself of the savage jaws of these wolves, akin as they
+were to half her nature. She vouchsafed to them nor look nor sign;
+but Christian, on an impulse to assure himself that she should not
+escape him, caught and held the back-flung edge of her furs,
+running still.
+
+She turned like a flash with a beastly snarl, teeth and eyes
+gleaming again. Her axe shone, on the upstroke, on the downstroke,
+as she hacked at his hand. She had lopped it off at the wrist, but
+that he parried with the bear-spear. Even then, she shore through
+the shaft and shattered the bones of the hand at the same blow, so
+that he loosed perforce.
+
+Then again they raced on as before, Christian not losing a pace,
+though his left hand swung useless, bleeding and broken.
+
+The snarl, indubitable, though modified from a woman's organs, the
+vicious fury revealed in teeth and eyes, the sharp arrogant pain
+of her maiming blow, caught away Christian's heed of the beasts
+behind, by striking into him close vivid realisation of the
+infinitely greater danger that ran before him in that deadly
+Thing.
+
+When he bethought him to look behind, lo! the pack had but reached
+their tracks, and instantly slunk aside, cowed; the yell of
+pursuit changing to yelps and whines. So abhorrent was that fell
+creature to beast as to man.
+
+She had drawn her furs more closely to her, disposing them so
+that, instead of flying loose to her heels, no drapery hung lower
+than her knees, and this without a check to her wonderful speed,
+nor embarrassment by the cumbering of the folds. She held her head
+as before; her lips were firmly set, only the tense nostrils gave
+her breath; not a sign of distress witnessed to the long
+sustaining of that terrible speed.
+
+But on Christian by now the strain was telling palpably. His head
+weighed heavy, and his breath came labouring in great sobs; the
+bear spear would have been a burden now. His heart was beating
+like a hammer, but such a dulness oppressed his brain, that it was
+only by degrees he could realise his helpless state; wounded and
+weaponless, chasing that terrible Thing, that was a fierce,
+desperate, axe-armed woman, except she should assume the beast
+with fangs yet more formidable.
+
+And still the far slow stars went lingering nearly an hour from
+midnight.
+
+So far was his brain astray that an impression took him that she
+was fleeing from the midnight stars, whose gain was by such slow
+degrees that a time equalling days and days had gone in the race
+round the northern circle of the world, and days and days as long
+might last before the end--except she slackened, or except he
+failed.
+
+But he would not fail yet.
+
+How long had he been praying so? He had started with a
+self-confidence and reliance that had felt no need for that aid;
+and now it seemed the only means by which to restrain his heart
+from swelling beyond the compass of his body, by which to cherish
+his brain from dwindling and shrivelling quite away. Some
+sharp-toothed creature kept tearing and dragging on his maimed
+left hand; he never could see it, he could not shake it off; but
+he prayed it off at times.
+
+The clear stars before him took to shuddering, and he knew why:
+they shuddered at sight of what was behind him. He had never
+divined before that strange things hid themselves from men under
+pretence of being snow-clad mounds or swaying trees; but now they
+came slipping out from their harmless covers to follow him, and
+mock at his impotence to make a kindred Thing resolve to truer
+form. He knew the air behind him was thronged; he heard the hum of
+innumerable murmurings together; but his eyes could never catch
+them, they were too swift and nimble. Yet he knew they were there,
+because, on a backward glance, he saw the snow mounds surge as
+they grovelled flatlings out of sight; he saw the trees reel as
+they screwed themselves rigid past recognition among the boughs.
+
+And after such glance the stars for awhile returned to
+steadfastness, and an infinite stretch of silence froze upon the
+chill grey world, only deranged by the swift even beat of the
+flying feet, and his own--slower from the longer stride, and the
+sound of his breath. And for some clear moments he knew that his
+only concern was, to sustain his speed regardless of pain and
+distress, to deny with every nerve he had her power to outstrip
+him or to widen the space between them, till the stars crept up to
+midnight. Then out again would come that crowd invisible, humming
+and hustling behind, dense and dark enough, he knew, to blot out
+the stars at his back, yet ever skipping and jerking from his
+sight.
+
+A hideous check came to the race. White Fell swirled about and
+leapt to the right, and Christian, unprepared for so prompt a
+lurch, found close at his feet a deep pit yawning, and his own
+impetus past control. But he snatched at her as he bore past,
+clasping her right arm with his one whole hand, and the two swung
+together upon the brink.
+
+And her straining away in self preservation was vigorous enough to
+counter-balance his headlong impulse, and brought them reeling
+together to safety.
+
+Then, before he was verily sure that they were not to perish so,
+crashing down, he saw her gnashing in wild pale fury as she
+wrenched to be free; and since her right hand was in his grasp,
+used her axe left-handed, striking back at him.
+
+The blow was effectual enough even so; his right arm dropped
+powerless, gashed, and with the lesser bone broken, that jarred
+with horrid pain when he let it swing as he leaped out again, and
+ran to recover the few feet she had gained from his pause at the
+shock.
+
+The near escape and this new quick pain made again every faculty
+alive and intense. He knew that what he followed was most surely
+Death animate: wounded and helpless, he was utterly at her mercy
+if so she should realise and take action. Hopeless to avenge,
+hopeless to save, his very despair for Sweyn swept him on to
+follow, and follow, and precede the kiss-doomed to death. Could he
+yet fail to hunt that Thing past midnight, out of the womanly form
+alluring and treacherous, into lasting restraint of the bestial,
+which was the last shred of hope left from the confident purpose
+of the outset?
+
+"Sweyn, Sweyn, O Sweyn!" He thought he was praying, though his
+heart wrung out nothing but this: "Sweyn, Sweyn, O Sweyn!"
+
+The last hour from midnight had lost half its quarters, and the
+stars went lifting up the great minutes; and again his greatening
+heart, and his shrinking brain, and the sickening agony that swung
+at either side, conspired to appal the will that had only seeming
+empire over his feet.
+
+Now White Fell's body was so closely enveloped that not a lap nor
+an edge flew free. She stretched forward strangely aslant, leaning
+from the upright poise of a runner. She cleared the ground at
+times by long bounds, gaining an increase of speed that Christian
+agonised to equal.
+
+Because the stars pointed that the end was nearing, the black
+brood came behind again, and followed, noising. Ah! if they could
+but be kept quiet and still, nor slip their usual harmless masks
+to encourage with their interest the last speed of their most
+deadly congener. What shape had they? Should he ever know? If it
+were not that he was bound to compel the fell Thing that ran
+before him into her truer form, he might face about and follow
+them. No--no--not so; if he might do anything but what he
+did--race, race, and racing bear this agony, he would just stand
+still and die, to be quit of the pain of breathing.
+
+He grew bewildered, uncertain of his own identity, doubting of his
+own true form. He could not be really a man, no more than that
+running Thing was really a woman; his real form was only hidden
+under embodiment of a man, but what it was he did not know. And
+Sweyn's real form he did not know. Sweyn lay fallen at his feet,
+where he had struck him down--his own brother--he: he stumbled
+over him, and had to overleap him and race harder because she who
+had kissed Sweyn leapt so fast. "Sweyn, Sweyn, O Sweyn!"
+
+Why did the stars stop to shudder? Midnight else had surely come!
+
+The leaning, leaping Thing looked back at him with a wild, fierce
+look, and laughed in savage scorn and triumph. He saw in a flash
+why, for within a time measurable by seconds she would have
+escaped him utterly. As the land lay, a slope of ice sunk on the
+one hand; on the other hand a steep rose, shouldering forwards;
+between the two was space for a foot to be planted, but none for a
+body to stand; yet a juniper bough, thrusting out, gave a handhold
+secure enough for one with a resolute grasp to swing past the
+perilous place, and pass on safe.
+
+Though the first seconds of the last moment were going, she dared
+to flash back a wicked look, and laugh at the pursuer who was
+impotent to grasp.
+
+[Illustration: The Finish]
+
+The crisis struck convulsive life into his last supreme effort;
+his will surged up indomitable, his speed proved matchless yet. He
+leapt with a rush, passed her before her laugh had time to go out,
+and turned short, barring the way, and braced to withstand her.
+
+She came hurling desperate, with a feint to the right hand, and
+then launched herself upon him with a spring like a wild beast
+when it leaps to kill. And he, with one strong arm and a hand that
+could not hold, with one strong hand and an arm that could not
+guide and sustain, he caught and held her even so. And they fell
+together. And because he felt his whole arm slipping, and his
+whole hand loosing, to slack the dreadful agony of the wrenched
+bone above, he caught and held with his teeth the tunic at her
+knee, as she struggled up and wrung off his hands to overleap him
+victorious.
+
+Like lightning she snatched her axe, and struck him on the neck,
+deep--once, twice--his life-blood gushed out, staining her feet.
+
+The stars touched midnight.
+
+The death scream he heard was not his, for his set teeth had
+hardly yet relaxed when it rang out; and the dreadful cry began
+with a woman's shriek, and changed and ended as the yell of a
+beast. And before the final blank overtook his dying eyes, he saw
+that She gave place to It; he saw more, that Life gave place to
+Death--causelessly, incomprehensibly.
+
+For he did not presume that no holy water could be more holy, more
+potent to destroy an evil thing than the life-blood of a pure
+heart poured out for another in free willing devotion.
+
+His own true hidden reality that he had desired to know grew
+palpable, recognisable. It seemed to him just this: a great glad
+abounding hope that he had saved his brother; too expansive to be
+contained by the limited form of a sole man, it yearned for a new
+embodiment infinite as the stars.
+
+What did it matter to that true reality that the man's brain
+shrank, shrank, till it was nothing; that the man's body could not
+retain the huge pain of his heart, and heaved it out through the
+red exit riven at the neck; that the black noise came again
+hurtling from behind, reinforced by that dissolved shape, and
+blotted out for ever the man's sight, hearing, sense.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In the early grey of day Sweyn chanced upon the footprints of a
+man--of a runner, as he saw by the shifted snow; and the direction
+they had taken aroused curiosity, since a little farther their
+line must be crossed by the edge of a sheer height. He turned to
+trace them. And so doing, the length of the stride struck his
+attention--a stride long as his own if he ran. He knew he was
+following Christian.
+
+In his anger he had hardened himself to be indifferent to the
+night-long absence of his brother; but now, seeing where the
+footsteps went, he was seized with compunction and dread. He had
+failed to give thought and care to his poor frantic twin, who
+might--was it possible?--have rushed to a frantic death.
+
+His heart stood still when he came to the place where the leap had
+been taken. A piled edge of snow had fallen too, and nothing but
+snow lay below when he peered. Along the upper edge he ran for a
+furlong, till he came to a dip where he could slip and climb down,
+and then back again on the lower level to the pile of fallen snow.
+There he saw that the vigorous running had started afresh.
+
+He stood pondering; vexed that any man should have taken that leap
+where he had not ventured to follow; vexed that he had been
+beguiled to such painful emotions; guessing vainly at Christian's
+object in this mad freak. He began sauntering along, half
+unconsciously following his brother's track; and so in a while he
+came to the place where the footprints were doubled.
+
+Small prints were these others, small as a woman's, though the
+pace from one to another was longer than that which the skirts of
+women allow.
+
+Did not White Fell tread so?
+
+A dreadful guess appalled him, so dreadful that he recoiled from
+belief. Yet his face grew ashy white, and he gasped to fetch back
+motion to his checked heart. Unbelievable? Closer attention showed
+how the smaller footfall had altered for greater speed, striking
+into the snow with a deeper onset and a lighter pressure on the
+heels. Unbelievable? Could any woman but White Fell run so? Could
+any man but Christian run so? The guess became a certainty. He was
+following where alone in the dark night White Fell had fled from
+Christian pursuing.
+
+Such villainy set heart and brain on fire with rage and
+indignation: such villainy in his own brother, till lately
+love-worthy, praiseworthy, though a fool for meekness. He would
+kill Christian; had he lives many as the footprints he had trodden,
+vengeance should demand them all. In a tempest of murderous hate
+he followed on in haste, for the track was plain enough, starting
+with such a burst of speed as could not be maintained, but brought
+him back soon to a plod for the spent, sobbing breath to be
+regulated. He cursed Christian aloud and called White Fell's name
+on high in a frenzied expense of passion. His grief itself was a
+rage, being such an intolerable anguish of pity and shame at the
+thought of his love, White Fell, who had parted from his kiss free
+and radiant, to be hounded straightway by his brother mad with
+jealousy, fleeing for more than life while her lover was housed at
+his ease. If he had but known, he raved, in impotent rebellion at
+the cruelty of events, if he had but known that his strength and
+love might have availed in her defence; now the only service to
+her that he could render was to kill Christian.
+
+As a woman he knew she was matchless in speed, matchless in
+strength; but Christian was matchless in speed among men, nor
+easily to be matched in strength. Brave and swift and strong
+though she were, what chance had she against a man of his strength
+and inches, frantic, too, and intent on horrid revenge against his
+brother, his successful rival?
+
+Mile after mile he followed with a bursting heart; more piteous,
+more tragic, seemed the case at this evidence of White Fell's
+splendid supremacy, holding her own so long against Christian's
+famous speed. So long, so long that his love and admiration grew
+more and more boundless, and his grief and indignation therewith
+also. Whenever the track lay clear he ran, with such reckless
+prodigality of strength, that it soon was spent, and he dragged on
+heavily, till, sometimes on the ice of a mere, sometimes on a
+wind-swept place, all signs were lost; but, so undeviating had
+been their line that a course straight on, and then short questing
+to either hand, recovered them again.
+
+Hour after hour had gone by through more than half that winter
+day, before ever he came to the place where the trampled snow
+showed that a scurry of feet had come--and gone! Wolves' feet--and
+gone most amazingly! Only a little beyond he came to the lopped
+point of Christian's bear-spear; farther on he would see where the
+remnant of the useless shaft had been dropped. The snow here was
+dashed with blood, and the footsteps of the two had fallen closer
+together. Some hoarse sound of exultation came from him that might
+have been a laugh had breath sufficed. "O White Fell, my poor,
+brave love! Well struck!" he groaned, torn by his pity and great
+admiration, as he guessed surely how she had turned and dealt a
+blow.
+
+The sight of the blood inflamed him as it might a beast that
+ravens. He grew mad with a desire to have Christian by the throat
+once again, not to loose this time till he had crushed out his
+life, or beat out his life, or stabbed out his life; or all these,
+and torn him piecemeal likewise: and ah! then, not till then,
+bleed his heart with weeping, like a child, like a girl, over the
+piteous fate of his poor lost love.
+
+On--on--on--through the aching time, toiling and straining in the
+track of those two superb runners, aware of the marvel of their
+endurance, but unaware of the marvel of their speed, that, in the
+three hours before midnight had overpassed all that vast distance
+that he could only traverse from twilight to twilight. For clear
+daylight was passing when he came to the edge of an old marl-pit,
+and saw how the two who had gone before had stamped and trampled
+together in desperate peril on the verge. And here fresh blood
+stains spoke to him of a valiant defence against his infamous
+brother; and he followed where the blood had dripped till the cold
+had staunched its flow, taking a savage gratification from this
+evidence that Christian had been gashed deeply, maddening afresh
+with desire to do likewise more excellently, and so slake his
+murderous hate. And he began to know that through all his despair
+he had entertained a germ of hope, that grew apace, rained upon by
+his brother's blood.
+
+He strove on as best he might, wrung now by an access of hope, now
+of despair, in agony to reach the end, however terrible, sick with
+the aching of the toiled miles that deferred it.
+
+And the light went lingering out of the sky, giving place to
+uncertain stars.
+
+He came to the finish.
+
+Two bodies lay in a narrow place. Christian's was one, but the
+other beyond not White Fell's. There where the footsteps ended lay
+a great white wolf.
+
+At the sight Sweyn's strength was blasted; body and soul he was
+struck down grovelling.
+
+The stars had grown sure and intense before he stirred from where
+he had dropped prone. Very feebly he crawled to his dead brother,
+and laid his hands upon him, and crouched so, afraid to look or
+stir farther.
+
+Cold, stiff, hours dead. Yet the dead body was his only shelter
+and stay in that most dreadful hour. His soul, stripped bare of
+all sceptic comfort, cowered, shivering, naked, abject; and the
+living clung to the dead out of piteous need for grace from the
+soul that had passed away.
+
+He rose to his knees, lifting the body. Christian had fallen face
+forward in the snow, with his arms flung up and wide, and so had
+the frost made him rigid: strange, ghastly, unyielding to Sweyn's
+lifting, so that he laid him down again and crouched above, with
+his arms fast round him, and a low heart-wrung groan.
+
+[Illustration: Sweyn's Finding]
+
+When at last he found force to raise his brother's body and gather
+it in his arms, tight clasped to his breast, he tried to face the
+Thing that lay beyond. The sight set his limbs in a palsy with
+horror and dread. His senses had failed and fainted in utter
+cowardice, but for the strength that came from holding dead
+Christian in his arms, enabling him to compel his eyes to endure
+the sight, and take into the brain the complete aspect of the
+Thing. No wound, only blood stains on the feet. The great grim
+jaws had a savage grin, though dead-stiff. And his kiss: he could
+bear it no longer, and turned away, nor ever looked again.
+
+And the dead man in his arms, knowing the full horror, had
+followed and faced it for his sake; had suffered agony and death
+for his sake; in the neck was the deep death gash, one arm and
+both hands were dark with frozen blood, for his sake! Dead he knew
+him, as in life he had not known him, to give the right meed of
+love and worship. Because the outward man lacked perfection and
+strength equal to his, he had taken the love and worship of that
+great pure heart as his due; he, so unworthy in the inner reality,
+so mean, so despicable, callous, and contemptuous towards the
+brother who had laid down his life to save him. He longed for
+utter annihilation, that so he might lose the agony of knowing
+himself so unworthy such perfect love. The frozen calm of death on
+the face appalled him. He dared not touch it with lips that had
+cursed so lately, with lips fouled by kiss of the horror that had
+been death.
+
+He struggled to his feet, still clasping Christian. The dead man
+stood upright within his arm, frozen rigid. The eyes were not
+quite closed; the head had stiffened, bowed slightly to one side;
+the arms stayed straight and wide. It was the figure of one
+crucified, the blood-stained hands also conforming.
+
+So living and dead went back along the track that one had passed
+in the deepest passion of love, and one in the deepest passion of
+hate. All that night Sweyn toiled through the snow, bearing the
+weight of dead Christian, treading back along the steps he before
+had trodden, when he was wronging with vilest thoughts, and
+cursing with murderous hatred, the brother who all the while lay
+dead for his sake.
+
+Cold, silence, darkness encompassed the strong man bowed with the
+dolorous burden; and yet he knew surely that that night he entered
+hell, and trod hell-fire along the homeward road, and endured
+through it only because Christian was with him. And he knew surely
+that to him Christian had been as Christ, and had suffered and
+died to save him from his sins.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WERE-WOLF***
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