Initial commit of ebook 78969 filesHEAD main

author: www-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org> 2026-06-27 21:13:56 -0700
committer: www-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org> 2026-06-27 21:13:56 -0700
commit: d841ac672b74c4b5f8238278103eb231880e8ab8 (patch)
tree: d1c2035fdd1f9c589c4f168d50d3a4c2fd2de6fe /78969-h
6 files changed, 8273 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/78969-h/78969-h.htm b/78969-h/78969-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f71d472
--- /dev/null
+++ b/78969-h/78969-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,8273 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html>
+<html lang="en">
+<head>
+    <meta charset="UTF-8">
+    <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1">
+    <title>
+      A lovers’ tale | Project Gutenberg
+    </title>
+    <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover">
+    <style>
+
+body {
+    margin-left: 10%;
+    margin-right: 10%;
+}
+
+    h1,h2{
+    text-align: center;
+    clear: both;
+}
+
+p {
+    margin-top: .51em;
+    text-align: justify;
+    margin-bottom: .49em;
+}
+
+hr {
+    width: 33%;
+    margin-top: 2em;
+    margin-bottom: 2em;
+    margin-left: 33.5%;
+    margin-right: 33.5%;
+    clear: both;
+}
+
+hr.tb   {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;}
+hr.tiny   {width: 5%; margin-left: 47.5%; margin-right: 47.5%; margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0;}
+hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;}
+@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} }
+
+div.chapter {page-break-before: always;}
+h2.nobreak  {page-break-before: avoid;}
+
+table {
+    margin-left: auto;
+    margin-right: auto;
+}
+
+.tdr      {text-align: right;}
+
+.pagenum {
+    position: absolute;
+    left: 92%;
+    font-size: smaller;
+    text-align: right;
+    font-style: normal;
+    font-weight: normal;
+    font-variant: normal;
+    text-indent: 0;
+}
+
+.blockquot {
+    margin-left: 17.5%;
+    margin-right: 17.5%;
+}
+
+.x-ebookmaker .blockquot {
+    margin-left: 7.5%;
+    margin-right: 7.5%;
+}
+
+.center   {text-align: center;}
+
+.right    {text-align: right;}
+
+.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
+
+.allsmcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;}
+
+.gap {padding-left: 2em;}
+
+.ph1 {text-align: center; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;}
+.ph2 {text-align: center; font-size: xx-large; font-weight: bold;}
+.ph3 {text-align: center; font-size: x-large; font-weight: bold;}
+
+div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; page-break-after: always;}
+div.titlepage p {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 2em;}
+
+.xxlarge {font-size: 175%;}
+.xlarge {font-size: 150%;}
+.large {font-size: 125%;}
+
+img {
+    max-width: 100%;
+    height: auto;
+}
+
+.x-ebookmaker .hide {display: none; visibility: hidden;}
+
+.figcenter {
+    margin: auto;
+    text-align: center;
+    page-break-inside: avoid;
+    max-width: 100%;
+}
+
+.footnote         {margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;}
+
+.footnote .label  {position: absolute; right: 75%; text-align: right;}
+
+.fnanchor {
+    vertical-align: super;
+    font-size: .8em;
+    text-decoration:
+    none;
+}
+
+.poetry-container  {text-align: center;}
+.poetry {display: inline-block; text-align: left;}
+.poetry .verse  {text-indent: -2.5em; padding-left: 3em;}
+.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;}
+.poetry .indent  {text-indent: 1.5em;}
+.poetry .indent2  {text-indent: 2em;}
+.poetry .first {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;}
+
+@media print { .poetry {display: block;} }
+.x-ebookmaker .poetry-container {display: flex; justify-content: center;}
+
+.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA;
+    color: black;
+     font-size:smaller;
+     margin-left: 17.5%;
+     margin-right: 17.5%;
+     padding: 1em;
+     margin-bottom: 1em;
+     font-family:sans-serif, serif; }
+
+p.drop-cap {
+  text-indent: -0.35em;
+}
+p.drop-cap2 {
+  text-indent: -0.75em;
+}
+p.drop-cap:first-letter, p.drop-cap2:first-letter
+{
+  float: left;
+  margin: 0em 0.15em 0em 0em;
+  font-size: 250%;
+  line-height:0.85em;
+  text-indent: 0em;
+}
+.x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap, .x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap2 {
+  text-indent: 0em;
+}
+.x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap:first-letter, .x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap2:first-letter
+{
+  float: none;
+  margin: 0;
+  font-size: 100%;
+}
+
+.x-ebookmaker .transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA;
+    color: black;
+     font-size:smaller;
+     margin-left: 5%;
+     margin-right: 5%;
+     padding: 1em;
+     margin-bottom: 1em;
+     font-family:sans-serif, serif; }
+
+    </style>
+</head>
+
+<body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78969 ***</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/coversmall.jpg" width="450" alt=""></div>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h1>A LOVERS’ TALE</h1>
+</div>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/titlepage.jpg" alt="title page"></div>
+</div>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="titlepage">
+<p><span class="xxlarge">A LOVERS’<br>
+  TALE</span></p>
+
+<p>BY<br>
+<span class="xlarge">MAURICE HEWLETT</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="large">CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS<br>
+  NEW YORK&#160;: &#160; : &#160; : &#160; : &#160; : &#160; :&#160;1915</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1915, by</span><br>
+  CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS</p>
+<hr class="tiny">
+<p class="center">Published March, 1915</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/verso.jpg" alt="publisher's logo"></div>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_v">[v]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CONTENTS</h2>
+</div>
+<hr class="tiny">
+
+<table>
+<tr><td class="tdr"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span></td><td class="tdr" colspan="2"><span class="allsmcap">PAGE</span></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">I.—</td><td>THE BROTHERS IN MIDFIRTH</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1">      1</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">II.—</td><td>THE WHALE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_5">      5</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">III.—</td><td>CORMAC GOES TO NUPSDALE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_10">      10</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">IV.—</td><td>CORMAC WILL NOT BUDGE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_22">      22</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">V.—</td><td>CORMAC IN LOVE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_30">      30</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">VI.—</td><td>DOINGS AT TONGUE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_44">      44</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">VII.—</td><td>FIGHTING AT TONGUE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_58">      58</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">VIII.—</td><td>THE SPAE-WIFE’S CURSE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_72">      72</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">IX.—</td><td>THE PLIGHTING</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_86">      86</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">X.—</td><td>THE DAY OF THE WEDDING</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_106">      106</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">XI.—</td><td>BERSE COMES IN</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_124">      124</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">XII.—</td><td>STANGERD’S WEDDING</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_135">      135</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">XIII.—</td><td>CHASE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_150">      150</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">XIV.—</td><td>PARLEY</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_167">      167</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">XV.—</td><td>CORMAC MAKES READY</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_176">      176</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_vi">[vi]</span></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">XVI.—</td><td>BATTLE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_185">      185</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">XVII.—</td><td>BERSE GOES HOME</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_196">      196</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">XVIII.—</td><td>DOINGS AT THE THING</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_209">      209</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">XIX.—</td><td>STANGERD FREES HERSELF</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_218">      218</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">XX.—</td><td>TOOTHGNASHER</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_232">      232</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">XXI.—</td><td>THORWALD THE TINSMITH</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_243">      243</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">XXII.—</td><td>CORMAC COMES BACK</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_254">      254</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">XXIII.—</td><td>STANGERD GOES TO THE FLEET &#160; </td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_267">      267</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">XXIV.—</td><td>THE NIGHT IN THE WOOD</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_273">      273</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">XXV.—</td><td>THE END OF IT</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_290">      290</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">NOTE</td><td>&#160;</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_294"> 294</a></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="ph3">A LOVERS’ TALE</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[1]</span>
+<p class="ph2">A LOVERS’ TALE</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_001.jpg" alt=""></div>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER I<br>
+<small>THE BROTHERS IN MIDFIRTH</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">INTO Midfirth runs the Mell river through
+mudflats and marl to mix green water
+with the salt waves. On either side the
+land is rich and wet, giving fine pasture,
+and you can hardly see the snow peaks
+beyond the fells from which Mell comes down
+cold and green and clear. There on the
+brae stood Melstead, and there it stands
+yet. Once it was the house of Ogmund
+and his wife Dalla; but he died before
+the tale begins, which begins with Dalla,
+a widow and blind, and her two grown sons—Thorgils
+and Cormac.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[2]</span>Dalla had been a fine girl when she
+married Ogmund, as he himself was a fine
+man, who had been a fighter and a Viking
+in his day. Between them they had this
+couple of fine sons, of whom Thorgils, the
+elder, favoured his father, but had little
+of his quality. A broad-shouldered, fair-haired,
+sleepy young man he was now,
+steady at his work, and in his ways mild
+and quiet. He thought twice before he
+spoke, and therefore seldom spoke at all.
+If everybody did that, the world would
+be a peaceful place and much work done
+in it; but it would be very dull. Cormac
+took after his mother in looks, being vivid
+black and white. His hair was jet-black
+and curled freely, his face was very high
+in colour, that ran off to white in his forehead
+and neck. His eyes were light grey
+and rather fierce. He was a wild young
+man, but very friendly after the bout. He
+had no idea how strong he was; but his
+brother knew, though they were very good
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[3]</span>friends for all that. He had a keen eye
+for the flight of a bird or the play of a fish,
+knew the weather by the smell of it, and
+could sing and make verses. Sometimes he
+made verses because he had been moved;
+sometimes he was moved because he had
+made verses; and often he did not know
+which way it had been with him. Although
+he had no notion of setting up for a poet,
+he thought about himself and his sensations
+a good deal, and had found out already
+that he did not greatly care to do anything
+unless he could watch himself doing it,
+and watch the thing done as it suffered
+the doing. That’s a poet all over; but he
+didn’t know it. It gave him the conclusion,
+however, that he was very unlike his father,
+the Viking, to whom the killing of a man
+was not at all the same as the killing
+of a pig. But Cormac, who had never
+killed a man yet, fancied that, to him at
+least, there would be no essential difference.
+His father again (he had heard) had loved
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span>many women, while he had loved never
+a one. But his father had been very
+jealous in his loves, and had killed almost as
+many men because they had intermeddled
+in his love-affairs. Now Cormac, thinking
+that over, felt very sure that he should
+never be jealous if he were a lover. He
+theorised at large about it; he gave the
+subject a great deal of attention. Love-making
+must enhance a woman, he thought,
+even in the minds of her lovers. If she was
+beautiful, it was surely her due. If she
+was plain, it would provoke desire. What
+more lovely sight could the world offer a
+man than to see the woman he longed for
+the burning-point of the world’s longing?
+He kept these ideas to himself because he
+had nobody but his mother to whom he
+could have imparted them. She would have
+laughed at him and made him angry.</p>
+
+<p>When this tale begins, Cormac was a full-grown
+man, strong for his age.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER II<br>
+<small>THE WHALE</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">WHEN the whale came ashore at Watersness,
+Thorgils heard of it first. He
+went down to look at it, and found
+it was upon his land. It lay there, a
+mountain of distress, and the flies about it
+were as thick as a snowstorm. At home
+that night he spoke of it to his mother,
+and said that one of them must set to work
+cutting it up next day, or all would be
+spoiled. It was late autumn, very close,
+still, and hot, as it often is before the
+weather breaks up. Dalla said: “Cormac
+will never go to such a work. He hates
+to foul his hands.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then I must do it myself,” said
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[6]</span>Thorgils; “but I had been going on to the
+fells to round up the sheep. It is fully
+time.”</p>
+
+<p>“Send Cormac after the sheep,” Dalla
+said, “and let Toste go with him, and send
+some of the hands.”</p>
+
+<p>Just then Cormac came in. They heard
+him whistling outside in the dusk. He
+stayed there a good time whistling, singing
+scraps of songs, then came in and looked
+at them, scowling from under his black
+brows. He looked as if he had been
+expecting to find nobody and was annoyed
+by a sudden roomful of people. But they
+took no notice of him, and his face cleared.
+It was like the sun coming out from
+behind a cloud. He threw his head up
+and laughed richly and snugly, as if to
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>Dalla heard him. “What are you
+laughing at?”</p>
+
+<p>“You,” he said, and she asked:</p>
+
+<p>“Why so?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span>He came and kissed her. “Because I
+love you, I think.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s an odd reason,” she said, turning
+up her sightless face.</p>
+
+<p>“No, it’s not,” he said; “it’s a very
+good reason. Whenever I come upon
+something I love, and find it, all closed
+in and ready to my hand, it tickles me.
+I laugh and think to myself, ‘There’s that
+pretty thing, snug against when I want it.’
+And then I go away and do what I’ve got to
+do, and remember that it’s there all the time.”</p>
+
+<p>His hand was stroking her face, and she
+moved about to get the feel of it. She
+was very pleased. “Your brother here
+thinks you a madman; but I understand
+you,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>“So does he, when he wants me,” said
+Cormac, and sat down to his supper.</p>
+
+<p>“I shall want you in the morning,”
+Thorgils said after much reflection, and
+told him about the whale. Cormac made
+a sour face.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span>But he took a long draught before he
+spoke, and then he said: “That will be
+a dirty business, Thorgils. Can’t you give
+me one more to my liking? You know
+I do ill what I have no taste for.”</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils said: “Well, you can round
+up the sheep on the fells if you please. It
+matters little to me. These things have
+to be done. There’s snow coming when
+the wind changes. It is banking in the
+north-west even now.”</p>
+
+<p>This was a long speech for Thorgils, who
+had no more to say after it, and soon went
+to bed. Cormac sat up, telling his mother
+tales or listening to her stories of his father
+when he had been seafaring in Ireland;
+and before he himself went to bed he must
+needs go out of doors again. There was a full
+moon shining in splendour over the firth,
+and the sky was wonderfully clear. You
+could see over the fells to the white cap
+of Eiriks-jökul gleaming in the Southern
+sky like a dome. Below that, and three
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span>days’ journey short of it, were the fells
+where the sheep lay, and Cormac must be
+betimes in the morning. He would go with
+Toste, who was the Melstead reeve and
+worked the dogs.</p>
+
+<p>But though he shortened his night by it,
+Cormac nevertheless walked about the shore
+under the glory of the moon; and many
+a verse he made and sang to himself as he
+looked over the full, flowing water or marked
+the ducks bobbing about like a fisherman’s
+floats in the broad path of light.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span>
+
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER III<br>
+<small>CORMAC GOES TO NUPSDALE</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="drop-cap">THEY rode out at sunrise, Cormac and
+Toste, with the dogs and house-carles,
+and worked all day fetching in the
+sheep. It was hard work; and the dusk
+came down early and found them still at
+it. Toste, who knew where they were, said
+that it would be well to put into Nupsdale-stead
+for the night. “They’ll feed us
+well, and we shall hear some good talk,”
+he said.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac said it was all one to him where
+he stayed. He was ready to sleep out on
+the fell, or go home, as Toste pleased.</p>
+
+<p>Toste was for Nupsdale-stead. He knew
+the master of the house, and was known of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span>him. “They will make you welcome, too,”
+he told Cormac, “and you’ll see the finest
+girl in the country, I believe.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who’s that, then?” says Cormac.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, Stangerd, Thorkel’s daughter of
+Tongue. She’s been fostered there these
+four years, and was like a spoiled hawk
+when I saw her last, three years back, I
+daresay. She will be of a likeable age by
+now—sixteen years old or thereabouts. A
+handful, I’ll warrant her—a breaker of
+hearts.”</p>
+
+<p>“We’ll go to Nupsdale-stead,” Cormac
+said. “I should like to see her.”</p>
+
+<p>Toste went on with his meditations aloud.
+“A burning girl—a big girl. She’ll set you
+afire. There’ll be a pair of you.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac laughed, and threw his head up.
+Then they went on through the acres to
+the homestead, which was a spacious place
+well sheltered from the wind; and soon
+they heard the dogs give tongue from the
+roof, and soon it was their business to fight
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span>them off, and keep their own from
+dismemberment.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>They were well received in the hall, where
+they found a company sitting at drink,
+a good fire, and a table where there would
+be supper by and by. Cormac looked
+about for the finest girl in the country;
+but there were no women in the hall: a son
+of the house served the newcomers with
+drink. At the further end was the high
+seat with two great pillars carved with the
+heads of Odin and Thor; and on each side
+of that curtains were hung so that there
+could be a passage all round.</p>
+
+<p>Presently, as they sat listening to the
+talk, Toste gave Cormac a nudge, and when
+he got his attention, looked towards those
+curtains.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac nodded. “I know,” he said.
+“There are two of them there.”</p>
+
+<p>Behind the curtains were two pairs of
+bare feet shining in the light from the fire,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span>and a hand stirred the folds, as if to keep
+them together.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac watched them for a little, then
+began to sing softly, as if to himself:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="first">“O eye-deceit or heart-deceit,</div>
+<div class="verse">Lo, there, my blessing or my bane!</div>
+<div class="verse">A lover at a lady’s feet</div>
+<div class="verse">Holding his heart, and there a pain!</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">A lady’s feet, and there a lover:</div>
+<div class="verse">A patch of snow left by the rain</div>
+<div class="verse">Afield, or two tufts of white clover—</div>
+<div class="verse">And near beside a young man slain.”</div>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>Then the white feet drew back; but
+presently Cormac saw another thing—or
+Toste did and showed it to Cormac. The
+heads upon the high seat pillars had had
+empty eyes; but now the eyes of Thor
+were agleam.</p>
+
+<p>“She is looking at you,” said Toste.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac nodded.</p>
+
+<p>“She has bright eyes. The fire plays
+with them.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span>Then he sang again:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first">“The fire plays with my lady’s eyes,</div>
+<div class="verse">And they make music in my head.</div>
+<div class="verse">The sea-blue bird that flashing flies</div>
+<div class="verse">Like a sword down the river-bed,</div>
+<div class="verse">Links the green earth and azure skies;</div>
+<div class="verse">And so with me is Stangerd wed,</div>
+<div class="verse">When light with light is handfasted.”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Whether she heard him or not, her eyes
+remained shining in the empty sockets of
+Thor, and Cormac watched them. By and
+by the sockets showed empty; and not
+long after that, Stangerd and a companion
+came into the hall at the lower end and
+sat down together on a bench and looked
+guardedly at the company. Stangerd was
+a tall and big girl, with corn-coloured hair,
+very fine and abundant, and, as Toste said,
+she was fire-hued and bold-looking, with
+blue eyes. She was bold-looking, and had
+bold, free movements. Cormac looked at
+her, and spoke to himself. He looked and
+muttered, looked and muttered. Then he
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span>broke out so that Toste could hear him,
+and others beside Toste. Stangerd herself
+could tell that he was talking verses, and
+be sure that they were about her. As for
+her friend, she revelled in it.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac sang:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first">“O mood of mine—O fever song</div>
+<div class="verse">Begot when I cast eyes upon her!</div>
+<div class="verse">When eyes gave me this burning lass,</div>
+<div class="verse">Daughter of Thorkel of the Tongue—</div>
+<div class="verse">A goddess’ maid, a Maid of Honour,</div>
+<div class="verse">Flusht in the face, with hair like brass,</div>
+<div class="verse">Or corn that yellows to the sickle,</div>
+<div class="verse">Full tall and free, and bold, and young;</div>
+<div class="verse">Deep-bosom’d, too, with deep blue eyes</div>
+<div class="verse">Like slumb’ring pools—a girl of size,</div>
+<div class="verse">Whom seeing no man, you’d say, would stickle</div>
+<div class="verse">To take to bed and make a woman—</div>
+<div class="verse">Heart shows her me a spirit not human....”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>There he stopped, not because all men
+were considering him and his muttering and
+his fixt eyes, but because words failed him.
+He still looked at Stangerd, but could not see
+her for the fiery mist which enwrapt her.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span>Toste said, “That’s a splendid girl, that
+girl of Thorkel’s. There won’t be such
+another in the country. Yet he would be
+a bold man who would wive her.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why so?” Cormac asked him in a
+stare.</p>
+
+<p>Toste said, “Look at the colour of her;
+look at her ease and boldness. She is the
+sort that will ask and have.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac said, “All that is as it may
+be. What she wants should be hers by
+right. She is good to look upon—and that
+is enough for me.”</p>
+
+<p>“You seem to find her good,” said Toste,
+“and you may look your fill. You’ll never
+look her out of countenance. She’s a match
+for you.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac could see that the two girls were
+talking about him, for they looked sideways
+as they whispered together, but kept
+their faces turned away from him. He
+could not hear what they said.</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd, it seemed, did not approve of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span>him very much, but the other girl praised
+him.</p>
+
+<p>“A fine young man,” she said, “with a fine
+way of looking at you, without offence. He
+looks at you as if you were a flowering tree.”</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd said, “He’s like a magpie—all
+black and white. And I dislike a curly-headed
+man.”</p>
+
+<p>“He has good eyes, sweetheart,” said
+the other girl. “He misses nothing.”</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd shrugged one of her shoulders.
+“Black eyes, he has. They are treacherous.
+They see much and show little.”</p>
+
+<p>“They see you, my dear,” said the other,
+“and so much, at least, they show. If I
+am not a goose they show you a deal more
+than that.”</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd felt their scrutiny, and endured
+it for a good while; but presently she began
+to blush, and then must move, complaining
+of the fierceness of the fire.</p>
+
+<p>The men brought in the food for supper;
+and then, as the custom was, the women
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span>of the house waited on the men, pouring
+them their drink. Cormac’s eyes followed
+Stangerd about from man to man. He
+said very little at table, but seemed as if
+he was bewitched. When she came to his
+side and stood above him to pour out the
+liquor, he did not look at her, but frowned
+at his platter. Nor did he watch her any
+more until she went out with her foster-mother
+and the other girls of the house.</p>
+
+<p>He drank deeply from his horn, and then
+looked at Toste as he sang:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first">“Full in the hall, rob’d in her white</div>
+<div class="verse">She sat at ease with her arms bare,</div>
+<div class="verse">And gaz’d before her at the light,</div>
+<div class="verse">Dreaming—and her blue eyes astare</div>
+<div class="verse">Encompast me and gave me sight</div>
+<div class="verse">Of their mystery and intent—</div>
+<div class="indent2">And when about the board she went,</div>
+<div class="verse">Serving the men with mead, and came</div>
+<div class="verse">And stood above me till I bent</div>
+<div class="verse">Before her, as before the flame</div>
+<div class="verse">The bushes in a forest bow</div>
+<div class="verse">And show all white—I had her name</div>
+<div class="verse">As if ’twas written on my brow:</div>
+<div class="verse">A Valkyr, Chooser of the slain!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span></div>
+<div class="verse">A storm-fraught spirit, fierce as pain,</div>
+<div class="verse">With whom to clasp and kiss, or grapple</div>
+<div class="verse">As man with woman, that were thought</div>
+<div class="verse">To deaden a deed—as if you brought</div>
+<div class="verse">The lovely Night to bed, or fared</div>
+<div class="verse">To play below the gleaming thrapple</div>
+<div class="verse">Of the keen daughter of the snow,</div>
+<div class="verse">And froze when her white hills she bared.</div>
+<div class="indent2">Not possible! Nay, let her go,</div>
+<div class="verse">Mistress of Destiny, unmov’d</div>
+<div class="verse">Her way of the gods, her way of woe,</div>
+<div class="verse">But ever lovely, ever lov’d,</div>
+<div class="verse">Treading the necks of beaten men!”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Toste said: “You are badly hit, I see.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac made no answer, and fixed his
+eyes upon the girl until she left the hall
+with her companion. The master of the
+house, who was fostering Stangerd and
+had observed the effect she had had, came
+over the hall and sat by his two guests.
+He pledged them, and encouraged Cormac
+to talk.</p>
+
+<p>That was not at all hard, as the young
+man was excited, and had drunk enough
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span>to loosen stiffer tongues than his own. He
+talked freely, but very well. Men gaped,
+then laughed at him, then laughed with
+him. Very often he broke naturally into
+verse; and soon his was the only voice
+you heard. His father, Ogmund the Viking,
+was his best theme; he had a way of
+picturing the scenes in which his life had
+been spent. Once, he said, Ogmund rowed
+up a broad English river in his long ship
+with a raven at the prow. His ship was
+called <i>Raven</i>. They rowed up between
+great banks of grass and mud until they
+came to a town lying on a sloping ground—a
+close-huddled town of red roofs, with
+a church overtopping all. They sacked the
+town, and had all the plunder to share—white
+women, children, cattle, flocks of
+sheep. They scorned the men and killed
+most of them. They drowned the headman
+by tying him to a stake in the channel at
+low tide. Cormac said that the sea came up
+at him solid, in a wall of brown water, curling
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span>at the edge. It brimmed about his chin,
+and then filled his mouth and his eyes.
+Then you saw it dimpling over the top of his
+head; and then, for a long time, the wave
+he made, swaying there, slanted over the
+flood from bank to bank. He made a song
+about the women whom the rovers shared
+among them, and held the company spell-bound.</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd lay awake listening to Cormac’s
+singing.</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first">“Now Stangerd lay abed within</div>
+<div class="verse">The house’s inmost sanctuaries,</div>
+<div class="verse">With both her hands between her knees,</div>
+<div class="verse">And them drawn up towards her chin</div>
+<div class="verse">Touching the fulness of her breast;</div>
+<div class="verse">And her wide eyes could get no rest</div>
+<div class="verse">That sought the dark and saw clouds float,</div>
+<div class="verse">Clouds of crimson radiant mist</div>
+<div class="verse">Which gather’d, mass’d and cours’d above her</div>
+<div class="verse">More lovely than the wings of the West—</div>
+<div class="verse">If such wild heart should turn to love her,</div>
+<div class="verse">What love-words would not such a throat</div>
+<div class="verse">Pour for the overwhelming of her!”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IV<br>
+<small>CORMAC WILL NOT BUDGE</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">IN the morning Cormac went out of the
+house to the water-trough, and dipped
+his head half a dozen times; and that
+was the best of his washing. Then he
+goes back into the hall and finds it empty,
+but voices of women come upon him from
+beyond the curtains, and one of them is
+Stangerd’s. Straight as a hawk he goes
+thither, and finds the women’s room, and
+Stangerd there in her shift and petticoat,
+combing her long, yellow hair. He had
+never seen such hair in his life; it was
+gold in colour, and reached below her knees.
+Her arms and shoulders were very white,
+but her neck was burning, and so was her
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span>face. He stood looking at her in the doorway.
+The girl whom he had seen overnight
+was with her—a pale, slim girl, with
+light grey eyes and a laughing mouth.
+Stangerd went on with her affair, but this girl,
+called Herdis, nudged her, and whispered:</p>
+
+<p>“Here is the fine stranger from the shore.”</p>
+
+<p>But Stangerd’s head was sideways to him,
+and her face averted.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac said to her, “Will you lend me
+the comb?”</p>
+
+<p>She looked up then, tossing her hair in
+a wave behind her. She looked very boldly,
+but her colour was high. She held him
+out the comb without saying anything, and
+began to rope her hair, that she might coil
+and pin it with a pin.</p>
+
+<p>While Cormac was combing his hair, the
+girl Herdis stood between them, and said
+to him, “What do you think of her hair?”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac said, “It is like the silk which the
+worms make, when it is fresh carded.”</p>
+
+<p>“What hair were that for a man’s wife
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span>to have!” said Herdis. “And her eyes—what
+say you?”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac said, “They are like the sea when
+the sun is behind you as you stand wondering
+at it. They are bluer than the sky when
+you stand in a narrow valley and look up.”</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd had a rope of her hair in her mouth,
+and was pinning a coil. She looked from
+Herdis to Cormac without fear or confusion.
+Then she took the hair from her mouth and
+said: “Have you not done valuing me?”</p>
+
+<p>Herdis laughed. “My dear, we have not
+yet cast up the figures, nor even set them all.”
+Then to Cormac she said:</p>
+
+<p>“Do you set a price upon her?”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac, looking at Stangerd, said:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first">“For all that body’s loveliness</div>
+<div class="verse">I would give Iceland, and no less,</div>
+<div class="verse">And all the lands that lie between</div>
+<div class="verse">The land where the sun is never seen</div>
+<div class="verse">And the roaring Western main;</div>
+<div class="verse">And even so I should be fain</div>
+<div class="verse">To search the world for more to give—</div>
+<div class="verse">Yet search I must if I would live!”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span>Stangerd liked this song, and was more
+gentle in her ways. She looked at Cormac
+with interest.</p>
+
+<p>“You are a skald,” she said. “I knew
+that yesterday. I heard you singing in
+the hall.”</p>
+
+<p>“I sing when the words and music come
+to me,” said Cormac. “Last night there
+was no trouble about it. I felt very greatly,
+and so sang greatly.”</p>
+
+<p>“I heard you,” she said, “but not the
+words. What did you sing about?”</p>
+
+<p>“My dear,” said Herdis, “can you ask
+him that?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why not,” said Stangerd, “since I wish
+to know?”</p>
+
+<p>“He sang about you,” said Herdis.</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd asked him fairly: “Is this
+true?”</p>
+
+<p>“It is not true,” Cormac said, “in the
+way she means it. Your name did not come
+into the song I sang. But the summertime
+came into it, and the yellowing of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span>the corn-acres, and the stillness of the heat
+on summer mornings, and the hush of the
+noons, and the gentleness of the evenings;
+and the rising of the harvest moon, full
+and hot, and the brown intake she makes
+about her in the sky. All these things were
+in the song—but your name was not in it
+at all.”</p>
+
+<p>Herdis took Stangerd’s arm, and the pair
+of them stood together before Cormac.</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd asked him if he was going away
+that morning.</p>
+
+<p>“How do I know?” he said. “It may
+be that I shall be here talking to you. It
+does not rest with me.”</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd smiled. “Does it rest with
+me?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” said Cormac, “and with no
+other.”</p>
+
+<p>“Here is one coming,” Stangerd said,
+“who may wish to have a word in it.”</p>
+
+<p>Toste came into the room.</p>
+
+<p>“It is time we were away, Cormac,”
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span>said he. “We have many a fell to beat
+over.”</p>
+
+<p>The eyes of Stangerd and Cormac met.
+Then Cormac said:</p>
+
+<p>“It is written that I stay here this day.
+You will find me here when you come off
+the hill.”</p>
+
+<p>“Now where do you get that written?”
+said Toste with a grin.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac said, “It is written in the heart
+of Stangerd.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, indeed,” said Stangerd, “I don’t
+read it there.”</p>
+
+<p>“But he does,” said Herdis, and Toste
+said:</p>
+
+<p>“A man can read his own runes, but not
+what is in the heart of a woman. Well, I
+wish you joy of your day; it will be better
+than mine.”</p>
+
+<p>So then he went, and Cormac remained
+all day talking to Stangerd.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span>In the evening Toste came back for him,
+and he must go.</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd came to the door of the house
+with him. She did not wish him to go,
+but she said nothing about it. They stood
+together at the door without speaking.
+Stangerd leaned against the door-post, and
+Cormac was near her, but not touching
+her.</p>
+
+<p>When Stangerd was moved her cheek-bones
+showed and the colour was fierce
+and high over them, as if she had been
+burned there. So they showed now. It
+grew dusk, but still Cormac could see those
+patches of red in her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>He said, “It grows late, and I must
+go after Toste. When shall I see you
+again?”</p>
+
+<p>She said, “I am always here. You
+will see me when you come to look for
+me.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac said, “That will be very soon,
+I am thinking.” Then he said, “Good-night,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span>Stangerd,” but did not touch her
+with his hand.</p>
+
+<p>She said, “Good-night, Cormac,” and
+stood there a long time after he had gone
+in the gathering dark.</p>
+
+<p>Herdis came to her bed, and would have
+got into it, for she wanted to know all about
+it; but Stangerd pretended she was sleepy,
+and would not let her in.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER V<br>
+<small>CORMAC IN LOVE</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">CORMAC was very silent at home, and
+remained silent for several days;
+but he was intensely happy, feeling
+himself in bondage to Stangerd. He made
+up more situations for her than you would
+believe, and was not himself in one of them.
+In his fancy he saw Stangerd beloved by
+everything in the world, and beloved by
+everything in turn. He was happy enough
+in this possession of her without any other,
+and did not make any attempt to visit her.</p>
+
+<p>After a while, he told his mother of his
+affair. Dalla looked rather grave.</p>
+
+<p>“I hear she is a fine girl, much sought
+after.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span>“She is a beautiful girl,” said Cormac,
+“and most reasonably sought.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am thinking that she will be too fine
+for your winning, my son. Thorkel will
+want a price for her. And he is no great
+friend of ours.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac said, “There is no hurry. I
+shan’t speak to him yet awhile. But I
+shall go to see Stangerd to-morrow.”</p>
+
+<p>“And what shall you say to her?”</p>
+
+<p>“That is as may be. If I feel called
+upon to say anything, I shall say it. All
+that I need now is to see her.”</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>He went, as he had foretold. He reached
+Nupsdale about noon and, as he leaned
+over the wall of the intake, saw Stangerd
+through the open doorway of the kitchen,
+and two men with her, watching her while
+she worked. He watched her for a long
+time, speculating which of the two fellows
+loved her more, and whether either of them
+loved her as he did. He became very excited
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span>over his nearness to her, but had no
+immediate need to be nearer. The homestead
+seemed to him a holy place; everything
+about it was enhanced by her presence
+in it, moving familiarly about it; the two
+young men, her companions, grew tall and
+splendid to him. He felt more interested
+in them than he had ever been in any man.
+Then he sang, as the song moved in him:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first">“I love a lovely woman—well,</div>
+<div class="verse">And if some other love her, good!</div>
+<div class="verse">All goes to prove my hardihood,</div>
+<div class="verse">All goes her magicry to tell.</div>
+<div class="verse">For say she is a miracle,</div>
+<div class="verse">Say that her beauty is my food,</div>
+<div class="verse">Am I so surly in my mood</div>
+<div class="verse">That what feeds me rings t’other’s knell?</div>
+<div class="verse">Nay, should a hundred be about her,</div>
+<div class="verse">And she of her great bounty feed them,</div>
+<div class="verse">Is that to say my heart must heed them?</div>
+<div class="verse">Not so. ’Tis they can’t do without her.</div>
+<div class="verse">Women are so made, they grow stouter</div>
+<div class="verse">Of heart the more their lovers bleed them.”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>He felt perfectly at ease. He wished
+the young men very well, hoped she was
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>kind to them, “as kind as she was to me
+when I was with her all day.” The thought
+of that day came back upon him like a
+flood of sudden warm weather. His heart
+beat. “Oh, I am a fortunate man—that
+such a beautiful woman should be kind to
+me, and let me be about with her all
+day!”</p>
+
+<p>Presently Stangerd, having finished what
+she was about, came to the door and stood
+there; she leaned against the door-post.
+She saw Cormac out in the meadow, but
+made no sign. He stood still looking at
+her, and then leapt the wall and came
+directly to her. Two dogs rushed out of
+the house, barking furiously; but he took
+no notice of them, and kept his eyes upon
+Stangerd.</p>
+
+<p>She coloured up, but he did not. He came
+and stood before her.</p>
+
+<p>“When did you come?” she asked him.</p>
+
+<p>“A long time ago. I don’t know when
+it was.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>“Why did you not come to the house?”</p>
+
+<p>“Because I was looking at you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Will you come in now?”</p>
+
+<p>“I will come in if you are going in. If
+not I will stay here.”</p>
+
+<p>“My foster-father will be in soon. He
+will ask me why you are here.”</p>
+
+<p>“You may tell him, if you please.”</p>
+
+<p>“What am I to tell him?”</p>
+
+<p>“That I am come to see you.”</p>
+
+<p>“No—I shan’t tell him that.”</p>
+
+<p>He laughed, but said no more for a time;
+nor had she anything to say.</p>
+
+<p>Then, suddenly, he said, “The sun is
+loving you.”</p>
+
+<p>“He is burning me,” she said, and put
+her hand up to shade her face.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>The goodman came home to dinner, and
+was not very pleased. Whatever he may
+have asked Stangerd, he took little notice
+of Cormac, but ate his dinner grimly and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span>soon afterwards went out. Cormac stayed
+with Stangerd all the afternoon. It grew
+dark, and the moon came up over the
+fiord.</p>
+
+<p>“Now it is her turn,” Cormac said.
+“She will light me down the fell; but her
+eyes will be upon you all the time.”</p>
+
+<p>Then he said, “Will you come to the end
+of the court with me?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why should I come?”</p>
+
+<p>“The night is blue,” said Cormac. “I
+wish to see you in the night’s arms.”</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd said nothing to this; but she
+went with him into the air, and as far as
+the end of the court.</p>
+
+<p>He told her, “I shall come again
+to-morrow.”</p>
+
+<p>“You were wiser not,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>“It is necessary for me to see you.”</p>
+
+<p>“It was not necessary yesterday.”</p>
+
+<p>“It will be necessary to-morrow.”</p>
+
+<p>Again she had no answer, being neither
+able to agree with him nor to deny. He
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>left her without a touch or a look, and was
+gone like a nightbird into the dusk that
+fleets far upon one stroke of his silent
+wings.</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd remained where she was for a
+while. Many men had loved her, but not
+in this fashion, to say at once so much
+and so little about it, to be so plain and so
+dark. After this he came to see her most
+days, and treated her in just the same
+way.</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd was a beautiful girl, richly
+coloured and finely formed. She had been
+admired since she was ten years old, and
+had often been told so. But she had never
+been admired as Cormac admired her, and
+had heard nothing like his admiration.
+Most men expressed themselves indirectly,
+by look or inference, by silence, by
+quarrelling with other men. If they told
+her in so many words that she was a beauty,
+they did it shamefacedly, and tried to make
+a joke of it. But Cormac from the first
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span>told her so plainly, and seemed to devote
+himself to making clear to her exactly how
+and exactly how much she was beautiful.
+He was, without doubt, making it clear
+to himself, but she couldn’t have known
+that. And everything that he told her was
+told in a plain, still voice, as if he were
+speaking about the weather or the crops,
+as indeed he thought he was.</p>
+
+<p>Naturally, she was very much interested.
+Who in the world does not like to hear
+about herself?</p>
+
+<p>He told her some very strange things, too,
+which she did not at all understand, but
+which none the less she accepted or passed
+over because they came from him. She
+would have been highly offended if any
+other man had so spoken.</p>
+
+<p>He said that everything in the world was
+her lover. He said that in rhyme, and
+said it to her when she was sitting on the
+brae in full sunlight, with him kneeling
+on one knee behind her. She felt his eyes
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span>bent upon her, boring like two augers through
+the top of her head.</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="first">“Great joy of Stangerd have I had,</div>
+<div class="verse">Joy to the full of one man’s tether;</div>
+<div class="verse">Greatly have loved her, hugely dared,</div>
+<div class="verse">Riding the dales or upland heather,</div>
+<div class="verse">Singing her bounty; being glad</div>
+<div class="verse">Because her blissfulness I shared</div>
+<div class="verse">With every other mother’s son</div>
+<div class="verse">In this good world: for this is true,</div>
+<div class="verse">Stangerd, the whole world joys in you.</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">Let her have husbands, one, two, three—</div>
+<div class="verse">A dozen are no more than one:</div>
+<div class="verse">All Nature is her lord in fee,</div>
+<div class="verse">And bird and hill-flower, stock and stone,</div>
+<div class="verse">And spearing grass and springing tree,</div>
+<div class="verse">The clouds, the river and the sun</div>
+<div class="verse">Hold Stangerd in coparcenary.</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">For, as I look upon the thing,</div>
+<div class="verse">Their beauty is a cup for hers,</div>
+<div class="verse">And nothing worth considering</div>
+<div class="verse">But what they tell as messengers</div>
+<div class="verse">Of how she figures in their glass.</div>
+<div class="verse">So the lark lift as she did pass</div>
+<div class="verse">And said, ‘The world is bright with glee</div>
+<div class="verse">Since Stangerd lookt and smiled at me;</div>
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span>
+<div class="verse">Therefore I sing’—or grass, ‘Her feet</div>
+<div class="verse">Press me in love!’—or flower, ‘How sweet</div>
+<div class="verse">The breath of Stangerd when she goes</div>
+<div class="verse">With parted lips!’—or tree, ‘Who knows—</div>
+<div class="verse">Passing, she laid a lingering hand</div>
+<div class="verse">On me, and doubtful seemed to stand</div>
+<div class="verse">Whether or no to take me to her;</div>
+<div class="verse">Who knows but she will let me woo her</div>
+<div class="verse">And be her lover in the dark</div>
+<div class="verse">When the sap throbs beneath the bark?’”</div>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>She sat very still while he was singing
+this, nursing her cheek in her hand. Presently
+she said, “You say curious things in
+your songs. I think I ought to be offended,
+but I am not. I should be offended if I
+believed them, or if I thought that you believed
+them.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac said, “You are wrong there. If
+you thought that I did not believe them,
+you would have cause to be offended.
+But I know them to be true. I read
+them in the face of things, I can’t be
+mistaken.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span>Then he sang on:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first">“So did the cloud, a jealous lover,</div>
+<div class="verse">Beshadow her, as he would cover,</div>
+<div class="verse">And prove himself her bosom’s lord,</div>
+<div class="verse">And make a guarded woman of her—</div>
+<div class="verse">Had not the sun with his bared sword</div>
+<div class="verse">Rent him with gashes, and outpour’d</div>
+<div class="verse">His courage on her; the which the river</div>
+<div class="verse">Rejoicing saw: ‘O, thou brave giver</div>
+<div class="verse">Of heart to horse, and horse to pasture,’</div>
+<div class="verse">Cried he, ‘I hail thee! Warm the blood</div>
+<div class="verse">Of Stangerd, that she slip her vesture</div>
+<div class="verse">And come to me, and know my flood!’”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>She grew very hot, and got up to go.
+She thought he was following her, but he
+was not. When she turned to look for
+him behind her, he was not there; and
+presently she saw him far down the fell,
+springing from boulder to boulder, going
+down towards the sea.</p>
+
+<p>Another day he told her that she was
+too beautiful to be the wife of one man.
+No plain-minded man, he said, would ever
+marry her, because he would know that
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span>he had neither the power nor the right to
+engross so rare a thing. When she frowned
+and bent her blue eyes upon him, and presently
+asked him: “Why, what would you
+have done with me?” he said that his own
+opinion was that she ought to be the wife
+of everybody. Then he sang:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="first">“There were four brothers loved one lass—</div>
+<div class="verse">Ask not how much or when this was.</div>
+<div class="verse">It was before the world took heed</div>
+<div class="verse">Of more than how to serve its need.</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">Their need was sore, her bounty such,</div>
+<div class="verse">They askt not, nor she gave, too much:</div>
+<div class="verse">They roamed the heath, they fought and kill’d;</div>
+<div class="verse">They were as one long sword and shield.</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">She kept the house; there was no strife</div>
+<div class="verse">Within doors, such a sweet housewife</div>
+<div class="verse">Was she, this kindly kindled lass,</div>
+<div class="verse">Such wife as no man living has.”</div>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>Then he turned his head and looked down
+upon her where she lay wondering, with
+her face between her hands. “So should
+you be the whole world’s wife, since you
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span>are as much more beautiful than she was,
+as she in her turn outwondered the women
+of her day. You should live in a temple
+by yourself, and be mate of every man who
+honestly and respectfully commended himself.
+In that way you would be Goddess
+and Bride of all Iceland and Goddess
+and Mother too. You would wear the
+Girdle of Fricka. No other woman would
+be thought of at all—which is as it should
+be. Some day soon I will make a song
+about that.” She moved away, saying
+that he must not.</p>
+
+<p>What was she to make of it? She pretended
+to be angry, but was not so at all,
+for she knew that he meant it for a high
+compliment.</p>
+
+<p>So the winter passed and the spring
+came on; and so the year wore to the
+summer. Cormac spent most of the time
+with Stangerd, but did not declare himself
+in any way that you could take hold of.
+It seemed that he talked to Stangerd as
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span>if she were a beautiful landscape, a cornfield
+in heavy ear, or the fell when the heather
+was in flower, or a birch-wood in early
+spring, or the firth in the quiet of dawn.
+He never scrupled to say that she was as
+lovely as any of these, or that everything
+in nature loved her. It never occurred to
+him to say that he, in particular, loved her.
+As for asking for her, Stangerd was sure
+that such a thought had never entered
+his head. Meantime—she fed upon his talk
+as if it were bread and honey.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VI<br>
+<small>DOINGS AT TONGUE</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">WHEN Thorkel of the Tongue heard
+what was going on at Nupsdale, he
+went up there after his girl. He
+did not see Cormac, but he called Stangerd
+to him, and said: “I hear that Cormac
+of Melstead is often up here after you.
+Now come you back with me, my girl.”</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd said that she was ready.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” said her father, “it seems to
+me that you are ready for many things.
+All in good time and one thing at a time.
+Let all be done in order and with decency.”</p>
+
+<p>So he brought her home to Tongue, and
+it was not long before Cormac heard that
+she was there, and went to see her.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span>Thorkel saluted him fairly, and passed
+the time of day with him, thinking that
+he would judge for himself how things were
+going to turn out. Cormac sought out
+Stangerd and talked to her so long as the
+daylight lasted. Thorkel watched him closely,
+and didn’t know well what to make of it.
+He didn’t know, for one thing, why Cormac
+irritated him so much; but presently he
+found out. It was because the young man
+did not know he was there. It was because
+he behaved as if the whole house held nobody
+but Stangerd and himself. Thorkel’s house,
+mind you, and (if you come to that) Thorkel’s
+daughter. No man could be expected to
+like that.</p>
+
+<p>And so it went on for a time, and Stangerd
+used to watch for Cormac’s coming, and to
+take it as a matter of course that he should
+be with her in whatever business she might
+have, and sit with her, and talk. Many
+men were in the hall at Tongue, for it was
+a busy place. But when Cormac was there,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span>Stangerd saw no other person, and Cormac
+saw none but her. The world indeed held
+but the pair of them, as it seemed.</p>
+
+<p>Thorkel said little, but he did not like it,
+and did not like Cormac, who seemed to
+him too free of his house and child. He
+was a shrewd man of few words, and did
+not believe in Cormac. Such words as he
+let out were not hard to understand, and
+there were those about him who made the
+most of them.</p>
+
+<p>There was a rough man named Narve
+who was about the place, and there were
+worse than he. The two sons of Thorveig
+the spae-wife were very often at Tongue
+after Stangerd: the eldest of them was
+called Ord, a blusterous young customer
+always at rough play. Stangerd had no
+liking for him, and Cormac at this time no
+jealousy at all; but Ord was very jealous.</p>
+
+<p>However, Narve, who was a fool, was
+the one that began. He said to Thorkel
+one day: “Master, it’s not hard to see
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span>that Cormac’s visitings are not to your
+taste.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who told you that?” Thorkel asked
+him.</p>
+
+<p>“My wits,” said Narve.</p>
+
+<p>Thorkel said, “I am glad they are of
+some use to you. They are not far out
+this time. I know no harm of Cormac,
+yet I wish he would leave my girl alone.”</p>
+
+<p>“He can be taught that,” Narve said.</p>
+
+<p>“As how?”</p>
+
+<p>“In the old way,” said Narve; “by a
+better man than himself.”</p>
+
+<p>Thorkel glanced at him. “Do you mean
+by you, perchance?”</p>
+
+<p>Narve said “I do.”</p>
+
+<p>Thorkel had nothing to say to that;
+then Narve went on:</p>
+
+<p>“Do you give me leave to deal with
+him?”</p>
+
+<p>Thorkel said, “You need no leave of
+mine. Deal with him how you can—or if
+you can.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>Narve took this for more than leave,
+and set his wits to work to provoke Cormac.</p>
+
+<p>The year was wearing to the close. The
+harvest was all in, the sheep were in pen,
+and the cattle in byre. Now was the time
+when men were killing beasts for salting
+against the winter. At Tongue that was
+Narve’s work in particular; but everybody
+was very busy.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac came in there one evening and
+looked about, as he always did, for
+Stangerd. She was not in the hall, but in
+the kitchen, where the work was going on.
+She had covered herself with a great apron
+and was busy with the rest. Narve was
+stirring a cauldron of black puddings and
+watched the pair. They met without
+greeting; Stangerd scarcely looked at Cormac,
+but was very much aware of him;
+as for Cormac, he did not take his eyes
+from her, but went and stood by her, very
+close. Narve could not see that they had
+much to say to each other, and judged that
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span>matters were beyond speech. Stangerd
+went on with her work under the eyes of
+Cormac. Presently Narve called out to
+Cormac: “Hither, runagate, and see my
+snakes in the kettle.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac looked over to him. “What am
+I to see?”</p>
+
+<p>“Come and see how they boil and bubble.
+See them all in love with one another.
+They can’t leave each other alone.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac frowned, but he went to the
+cauldron. Narve stuck his prong in and
+fished out a pudding. “Kettle-snakes, I
+call them,” he said. “Wrigglers and
+hankerers. What do you think of them?”
+He stuck the hissing morsel under Cormac’s
+nose, grinning, gleaming at the eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, I think,” said Cormac, “that I
+could see you writhing in there after a few
+more of your speeches—but you would
+foul the broth, and there are shorter ways
+with you.”</p>
+
+<p>Narve said, “The shorter the better.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span>Then Cormac took him suddenly by the
+ear, and cuffed him soundly, and flung
+him away. Narve went out of doors.</p>
+
+<p>Ord came in among them, and went to
+Stangerd, where she was salting the meat.
+He nodded to Cormac, but spoke to her:
+“Oh, Stangerd,” he said, “you should
+be out on the brae. The moon is coming
+up, and the evening is very still and
+warm.”</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd said she was too busy; and
+then Cormac said, “She will go—but not
+with you.”</p>
+
+<p>“With whom, then?” said Ord with a
+hot face.</p>
+
+<p>“With me, then,” said Cormac.</p>
+
+<p>Ord clacked his tongue on his palate, but
+held his ground, red and furious, as he well
+may have been, seeing he had known her
+the longer, and considered her in a sense
+his own. Cormac also was troubled—not
+angry, but troubled because his sense of
+intimacy was gone. Yet very soon another
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span>thought took possession of his mind. It
+was, that it was a beautiful thing to see a
+beautiful girl beset by lovers or admirers.
+He saw how calm and unconcerned she
+appeared, going on with her rubbing, with
+two flaming and fuming youths about her.
+He doubted if self-possession went deep; he
+guessed that within her her heart was drumming
+a lively measure. But her outward
+bearing was noble. She seemed not to have a
+care in the world but the rubbing in of salt;
+and then he thought of her as the bountiful
+Earth itself, the mother, the adored, the
+need of all men. He was inspired, and
+he sang of her:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first">“Well do they call you Sleeping Gold,</div>
+<div class="verse">Since no man lives but cannot see</div>
+<div class="verse">The light-flung glory which you hold</div>
+<div class="verse">As Erda holds her majesty,</div>
+<div class="verse">A thing of little worth, the fee</div>
+<div class="verse">Of whoso asketh, being bold.</div>
+<div class="verse">Let him draw nigh, the well is free,</div>
+<div class="verse">Say you, the fire for who’s acold:</div>
+<div class="verse">Let him drink, warm himself of me.</div>
+<div class="verse">Your heart, O Stangerd, you hold up<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span> </div>
+<div class="verse">For asking men; they need but need—</div>
+<div class="verse">There is no bottom to the cup,</div>
+<div class="verse">There is no pauper but may feed.</div>
+<div class="verse">So in your calm eyes each may read</div>
+<div class="verse">The truth he asks, if he be true—</div>
+<div class="verse">So to your arms all come indeed</div>
+<div class="verse">And die, as they have lived, of you—</div>
+<div class="verse">And your gold sleeps, and takes no heed.”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Stangerd bent to her work, but she
+flushed, hearing this song. She felt that she
+did not yet know Cormac, and that she must
+either pretend that she did, or drive him to
+explain himself. She did not wish to do this
+before Ord, lest Ord should think less of her.
+So she bent to her task and said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>But Ord fretted and fumed, then broke
+into scoffing.</p>
+
+<p>“The skald is bold enough—with the
+tongue. Women take words for deeds,
+I believe. But men don’t.”</p>
+
+<p>“Some men do,” said Cormac. “Narve
+is one. You have not yet been tried. But
+you may come to it.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span>“And if I come to it, Cormac, what
+then?” Ord put back his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>“If I tell you,” said Cormac, “that is
+tongue-work. But you ask for deeds.”</p>
+
+<p>Ord glared at him, very red, working his
+tongue about. Then he turned away.</p>
+
+<p>“I won’t ask—I’ll do,” he said. So Cormac
+held his place.</p>
+
+<p>But Stangerd was cross. “You should
+not sing of me so,” she said, “before other
+men. I am ashamed.”</p>
+
+<p>“Of what are you ashamed? Of me?
+That can hardly be. If I belittled you, or
+held you cheap, you might well be ashamed.
+But if I declare your glory?”</p>
+
+<p>“You don’t choose to understand me.
+You talk of—you talk of my eyes——”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course I talk of them since I see
+them, and think of them all night,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>“——and of my arms, as if—I was—I
+don’t know what.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is very possible that you don’t know
+what you really are,” Cormac said. “But
+I shall tell you before I have done with you.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span>“You may tell me what I please to hear,”
+said Stangerd with heat; “but you shall
+not talk before other men of my person.
+It makes me ashamed.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac threw up his head. “O warmth
+of the Earth! O heart of the World!
+There is no part of your person of which
+you need be ashamed. You might mate
+before the eyes of all men at the Thing,
+and you would but blind them with your
+splendour.”</p>
+
+<p>She bit her lip, but her eyes looked
+kindly at him; and presently she went
+with him to the door, and stood without
+it in the dark with him.</p>
+
+<p>And they both stood trembling together,
+and presently, without word said, they
+turned and kissed.</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first">“Eye-level and heart-level they,</div>
+<div class="verse">And mouth-level; but till that day</div>
+<div class="verse">Never had been what now must be:</div>
+<div class="verse">Kissed mouth to kissing mouth is fast,</div>
+<div class="verse">And two hearts beating to one tune.</div>
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span>  <div class="verse">Breathless and speechless for their boon,</div>
+<div class="verse">They cling together; but they kiss</div>
+<div class="verse">No more; but mouth and mouth co-mix</div>
+<div class="verse">And make one being at the lips.</div>
+<div class="verse">And all burnt splendour of the moon</div>
+<div class="verse">Throbs with the heat of burning noon.”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>That was the first time that ever Cormac
+kissed Stangerd, and it was the first of
+many. For after that she let him take her
+in his arms and kiss her as he would, and
+bless Heaven for having made her, and
+cry to the stars to shoot from their sockets
+and make a wreath for her head. And
+she herself kissed him once or twice, and
+prayed him not to be foolish, and believed
+that he was not.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>Cormac marched singing on his way under
+the stars. He went by the shore of the
+firth, and before he left the water he went
+in up to his middle, and soused his head
+and shoulders. He laughed suddenly, thinking
+of Narve.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span></p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first">“The scullion and his kettle-snake!</div>
+<div class="verse">What ailed him and his blister’d tongue?</div>
+<div class="verse">Will he scrape me with his muck-rake,</div>
+<div class="verse">Scatter me, as he scatters dung</div>
+<div class="verse">About the meadow? And the house</div>
+<div class="verse">That holds her harbours that wood-louse!</div>
+<div class="verse">Salmon and gudgeon in one lake,</div>
+<div class="verse">One tree, sea-eagle and titmouse!”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Then he went home to bed.</p>
+
+<p>But at Tongue, over the fire, Thorkel
+sat frowning while he heard what Narve
+had to say.</p>
+
+<p>“The fellow is dull,” said Narve, “or
+he shams dullness. I showed him as plain
+as I could speak that we had had more than
+enough of him. I insulted him; but no!
+It needs more than words.”</p>
+
+<p>“He had you by the ear, I understand,”
+Ord said; and Thorkel said, “You’re not
+man enough.”</p>
+
+<p>Narve flamed. “Man enough! I’ll show
+him how much of a man I am—when there
+are not women in the room. But there
+was Stangerd and a maid or two more,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span>and you know what girls are about these
+things! Bloodshed? No, no. Not before
+women. Don’t ask me to do that.”</p>
+
+<p>Ord said to Thorkel, “My brother and
+I are at your service when you want us.”</p>
+
+<p>Thorkel said, “There’s room here for
+a ready hand, seemingly. Come up here
+to-morrow, the pair of you, and we’ll have
+him out of it.”</p>
+
+<p>They laid a plot between them before
+they went their ways. Narve said that
+he was ready for anything, and Ord said
+he would bring in his brother Gudmund.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VII<br>
+<small>FIGHTING AT TONGUE</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">THEY laid a trap for Cormac at Tongue,
+which Stangerd perceived, though she
+did nothing to prevent it, since not a
+word was said of him throughout their preparations.
+You do not ask a girl who respects
+herself to talk of her heart-concerns to men.
+She will never do it. She would as soon
+undress herself before them. Moreover,
+her father was about the house all that
+afternoon, the last person in the world to
+whom she could talk of Cormac.</p>
+
+<p>The first thing was that Ord and Gudmund
+came to Tongue carrying weapons of war.
+They had swords and shields. With them
+came Narve, who had been out in the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span>meadow since dinner-time, looking for
+them. He brought a scythe over his
+shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>They shut the front door, and shot one
+of the bolts. Then the scythe was hung
+upon a nail, with the blade across the
+entry, and on the other side of it two nails
+were driven aslant, so that a sword leaning
+upon them cut across the corner of the
+door itself. Both of these things must
+fall when the door was opened. Such
+preparations were made, and the men sat
+about drinking mead, not saying very much
+above a whisper.</p>
+
+<p>Ord tried to sit with Stangerd, who had
+her yarn to wind, but she was very indignant,
+and would have nothing to say to him.
+Thorkel came in and out, but towards the
+time when Cormac might be looked for,
+he went into the kitchen, and waited there,
+peering. Stangerd saw him through the
+crack of the door. She continued to wind
+her yarn, and busied herself over it. She
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span>had no fear, however, for Cormac: it was
+not that which troubled her. She was
+convinced of his better mettle and more
+fortunate star. It would take stronger,
+stiller men than Ord to put him down.
+But she was enraged at the injustice of
+her father, that he should abet Ord’s
+jealousy, and knowing nothing against
+Cormac, yet take rank against him. Because
+he didn’t relish song-making, was song-making
+therefore shameful? Her heart
+burned in her breast, and the edges of her
+cheek-bones burnt her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>The barking of the dogs declared the
+coming of her lover. Narve, the fool, could
+not keep still. He jumped in the air and
+cracked his fingers. Ord and Gudmund
+looked at each other, but said nothing.
+Then presently they heard Cormac’s step
+in the court, and the sound of his voice
+singing.</p>
+
+<p>The door was tried. He found it bolted.
+He drave against it with some staff or other
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span>which he was carrying. Gudmund tiptoed
+to the door and shot back the bolt. Cormac
+drave into it again with his staff, and it
+flew open. The scythe and the sword came
+down together and met in midway, falling
+with a clash and shiver. Scythe, being
+heavier, brake sword. Cormac stood,
+smiling and bright-eyed, looking on. He
+saw Stangerd in her white gown, and was
+going directly to her over the wreckage
+at the door when Thorkel bounced out.</p>
+
+<p>He was in a high rage. He shook his
+hand at Cormac. “You worthless rascal!
+You night-worker, get you gone! What
+have you been to this house but a
+cause of scandal and bitterness? Get you
+gone with your mouthful of folly and
+wind!”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac laughed pleasantly, and made him
+worse.</p>
+
+<p>“You grin, you grin, you bitch’s whelp!
+But there shall be a ruefuller grinning for
+you before long.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span>He went into his hall, and took Stangerd
+by the arm. “Up with you, mistress, and
+come with me. Here is mischief enough
+for your fine eyes. There shall be no more.”</p>
+
+<p>She had risen, red and troubled herself.
+Holding her by the upper arm, he bustled
+her through the hall and out by the women’s
+door. He thrust her into the byre, and
+shut the door upon her, locking her in.
+“Stay there, till we have scared out this
+gadfly skald,” he said.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>Meantime Cormac had gone into the hall.
+Narve was not there; but at the further
+end he saw the two brothers, with their
+bare swords on their knees.</p>
+
+<p>“What is afoot?” he asked, looking from
+one to the other; but they said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>He stood doubtfully, looking first at them,
+and then about the hall, next at the
+ruins on the floor. He stirred them with
+his toe.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span></p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first">“When scythe and broad-sword come to blows,</div>
+<div class="verse">Plain men take heart, and meadow-grass.</div>
+<div class="verse">But there’s no pasture for the ass,</div>
+<div class="verse">However fair the home-mead grows.</div>
+<div class="verse">Cudgel your wits, I’ll cudgel your hides,</div>
+<div class="verse">Ye greedy pair of hoody crows.”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>They sat glum, glowering at him from
+beneath their brows. So far Cormac had
+not been in a rage, but now he got suddenly
+angry. He walked up to the brothers.</p>
+
+<p>“What is the meaning of this foolery?
+What have I done to Thorkel or to you
+that I should be received in this manner?”</p>
+
+<p>Ord said, “You are not wanted here.
+Is it not plain enough? What more
+can a man do than take his daughter
+out of the house the moment you come
+into it?”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac answered him: “He can see
+that worse men than myself are out of it
+first. But he lets his house fill with smeary
+scamps, and then bolts them in lest he lose
+one of them. You are none of you fit to
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span>sweep the floor for Stangerd’s feet. You
+make that foul which was only gritty with
+good dust before.” He turned suddenly
+and saw Narve in the entry of the Bower.
+In a flash he was upon him, and had him
+by the ear. “You—dish-washer—where is
+Stangerd?” He screwed his ear round,
+and Narve writhed.</p>
+
+<p>“She’s locked up in the byre then,” he
+said in a hurry.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac loosed him, and went straight
+through the house and out of the women’s
+door, where the maids were clustered together,
+and saw him go. He shook the
+door of the byre, and called, “Stangerd,
+are you there?”</p>
+
+<p>She answered him, “Yes, I am here.”</p>
+
+<p>“I must see you,” he said; but she said,
+“No, no, you can’t get in.”</p>
+
+<p>“Can I not?” said Cormac, and took a
+short run and butted into the door with
+his shoulder. It burst at the lock.</p>
+
+<p>She was alarmed; her eyes were bright.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span>“Oh, you are mad to act so! My father
+will set on you.”</p>
+
+<p>“He will not, then,” said Cormac, and
+took her in his arms. He had never been
+so eager to hold and kiss her before. He
+had always seemed afraid of her, but now
+he was not at all afraid. Stangerd was
+glad of him, and very proud. Her father
+did not come near them, and there they
+stayed till it grew dusk. Then she bade
+him go for fear they should set upon him
+in the dark; and Cormac himself thought
+it was the better way.</p>
+
+<p>“Farewell, my sweet,” he said, with his
+lips to hers. “I think I never loved you
+like this before.”</p>
+
+<p>“No,” she said, kissing him.</p>
+
+<p>“You were Goddess to me,” he told her;
+“but now you are woman.”</p>
+
+<p>“I like it better,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>He felt a sudden chill at the heart. He
+knew—something told him certainly—that
+it was not so good a way. Then he left her
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span>and went through the house to go home.
+The house was empty so far as he could
+see.</p>
+
+<p>Beyond the court there were the meadows
+stretching downwards to the brook, with
+stone walls about them. Then came the
+valley-bottom where rushes grew and some
+sycamore-trees. Beyond the water the hill
+rose; and here was your path if you were
+going to Melstead.</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd went to the door presently,
+and watched Cormac go through the
+meadows.</p>
+
+<p>He went fast, vaulting wall after wall.
+She wasn’t sure, but she believed that
+Thorveig’s sons were waiting for him in
+the bottom. When Cormac came to the
+last wall she was sure; for he stood on the
+top of it and remained standing for a while.
+Then when he jumped down, and she could
+only see his head and shoulders, she saw
+the men come out of the trees. Her father
+was not one of them. They were Ord,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>Gudmund, and Narve. Ord aimed a spear
+at him. She saw it fly.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>Cormac had seen the ambush before he
+got to the last stone wall. He stood on it
+that the ambushmen might know that he
+saw them and come out into the open. They
+all came out together, but when they were
+within hurling distance, they separated.
+Narve hung back in some alder bushes,
+Gudmund went to the left, and Ord to the
+right. Cormac jumped off the wall and
+went between them. He had an axe.</p>
+
+<p>Ord ran a little way forward and hurled
+his spear. Cormac met it with the axe, and
+it glanced off and stuck in the moss. Then
+Gudmund, who had been running, doubled
+up, came behind him to cut him off from
+the wall; but Cormac was too quick for
+him, and was on him like a gust of wind.
+He swung his axe as the spear came, and
+cut it in half as if it had been a bulrush;
+then he whirled the axe round backhanded
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span>and caught Gudmund in the neck with it,
+and brought him down. If he had not been
+giving ground at the moment his head had
+been off. As it was, the blade did not hit
+true; but he gushed blood from nose, mouth,
+and ears, and fell like a stone.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac turned and waited for Ord, who,
+having shot his spear, now came at him
+with a sword.</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd, watching by the door, turned
+quickly when she heard a man’s foot in the
+hall, and saw her father coming out with
+his bill. Her eyes burned.</p>
+
+<p>“What are you going to do, father?”
+she said.</p>
+
+<p>“Get out of my way, you!” he answered;
+but she would not. She came to him and
+caught both his wrists. He raved at her;
+but she held on.</p>
+
+<p>“You shall not—you shall not! It is
+shameful to be four against one.”</p>
+
+<p>He swore he would be the death of her;
+but she cared nothing now.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span>Narve came up the court on tiptoe, white
+as a cloth. “Master, hold you there! ’Tis
+all over,” he said. “Cormac has slain Ord,
+and, as for Gudmund, I doubt he’ll never
+move again. Fierce work! Bloody work!”
+He stared about him at the dusk. “We
+set our feet on a snake. That’s what we
+did. And he’s bitten us to the bone.”
+Then he shuddered, and covered his face.
+Stangerd let go of her father’s wrists and
+went into the house.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>It was true. Ord was no match for
+Cormac with any weapon; and sword has
+no chance with axe if the axe-bearer knows
+his business. He never touched Cormac,
+who, after two feints, split his head open.</p>
+
+<p>This was the first man Cormac had ever
+killed. He looked thoughtfully at the body,
+his rage having left him, and then went
+over to the brother.</p>
+
+<p>He believed him to be dead too; but
+he was not actually dead, though he died in
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span>a few days. His rage had left him—no,
+not his rage, for he had had none. He had
+been very excited. That moment on the
+wall when he saw the three come out of
+the trees had been the greatest pleasure
+he had ever known. But now all this was
+gone, and a feeling of disgust, as if he had
+tasted something sour and stale, was in him.
+There seemed a tarnish upon Stangerd’s gold.
+He would not think of Stangerd.</p>
+
+<p>He found his axe-haft wet with Ord’s
+blood, and the space ’twixt forefinger and
+thumb was wet too. He shuddered once
+or twice. It was all a nasty business. He
+wondered: Should he leave those two
+things alone there under the stars, or sit
+by them until it was light? Gudmund’s
+face showed in the dark—for it was almost
+night by now—as if there was a light within
+it. But Ord’s case was the worse. Ord
+had no face now—only horrible parts of a
+face. He could not bear to look at Ord,
+or help looking at him. He took off his
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span>coat and covered Ord’s head and shoulders
+with it. For Gudmund he had to content
+himself with boughs from a sycamore-tree.
+He was very careful of them, having no
+feeling against them. They had attacked
+him; he had provoked nothing—but he
+did not feel at all justified. A beastly
+business—and Stangerd involved in it. To-morrow
+he would tell their mother; for
+the present his coat was testimony enough
+that this was no murder.</p>
+
+<p>He went home full of thought; but no
+verses came into his head, since none were
+in his heart. He told his brother what
+he had done. Thorgils said there was no
+shame to him.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VIII<br>
+<small>THE SPAE-WIFE’S CURSE</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">THORVEIG, the mother of Ord and
+Gudmund, was a grave, heavy
+woman with thin hair and light eyes,
+wide open, which seemed always to be
+looking at things which were not there.
+They were like dead eyes. The tale says
+that she knew too much. Certain it is
+that when Cormac rode to see her, accompanied
+by his testimony, betimes in the
+morning—certain it is that she had Ord
+laid out for burial and Gudmund in bed.
+She was sitting by the dead when they
+came to the door. It was covered with a
+sheet, as it had need to be.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac said what he had to say. “I
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span>was attacked from an ambush; I defended
+myself. It was unprovoked on my part,
+and well you know it. I offer no atonement
+nor ransom for this dead man, and I require
+you to leave our land as soon as may be,
+and carry yourself and your evil seed elsewhere.”</p>
+
+<p>She watched him, but said nothing.
+Thorgils added his testimony. “I am with
+Cormac in this, Thorveig. I know that
+he did nothing against Ord. If you doubt
+of that, do you ask Thorkel of Tongue, or
+his man Narve, who was of the ambush
+too, but never came to blows. And when
+Cormac says that you must leave our land,
+I am with him there also. We will not
+have enemies at our doors.”</p>
+
+<p>Then Thorveig got up and said: “Ill
+fall him who takes land from another, but
+worse fall them who take again what they
+have freely given. Think not you, Cormac
+Ogmundsson, to prosper in these ways.
+True enough you can get me gone from the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span>hundred; like enough you will not ransom
+my sons. But I have that within me to
+put me even with you yet. You think
+you have cleared your way to Stangerd by
+such doings. You are a fool, then, for you
+will never have her.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac looked as if he would laugh at
+her; but he changed his mind. “The
+settlement of such a thing is not with you,
+woman,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah,” said she, “you are right there.
+It is with you, and I see it in you, and know
+it. And this, too, I see: that the foolishest
+thing you ever did was to fall foul of me and
+mine. It will come to pass also that you
+will wish me back at Melstead before many
+years are gone over. These things I see,
+but you cannot see. Now get you gone
+with your friends and leave me with my
+dead.”</p>
+
+<p>With that she sat down by the covered
+corpse, and Cormac rode away.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span>He did not go to Tongue that day, nor
+the next, though he thought of Stangerd,
+and never had her out of his mind. He
+wandered about the country by himself,
+asking of himself why he did not go to see
+her. He hungered and thirsted for her;
+he was sure of that. But it was a new kind
+of love—it was more than love, or less. It
+was a craving. He knew what he had
+felt when he brake open the door of the
+byre, and took her. He knew that he should
+feel that again directly he was in her
+neighbourhood. To look at her with eyes
+of desire, not with eyes of wonder; to hold
+her close, to kiss her long; to need, more
+and more, never to have done—all this
+she could call out of him now; but, in
+the doing, she would lose her first power
+over him, to evoke amazement and delight,
+to reveal to him glory and power. One
+thing or the other, but not both. How
+was it to be? He thought of these things
+all day and went to bed with them. In
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span>the morning he woke up to find them all
+about the bolster like flies. He made a
+bitter song, wherein she suffered as much
+as he did.</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="first">“This is not love that drains me—nay,</div>
+<div class="verse">This is to crave. O girdled Fricka,</div>
+<div class="verse">Dare I come near thee with lips gray</div>
+<div class="verse">For need of thine, and hot tongue-liquor</div>
+<div class="verse">Where once my mouth was clean to pray?</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">I would go back! There is no way</div>
+<div class="verse">To thin the blood I have made thicker;</div>
+<div class="verse">Save scratch for itch is no allay.</div>
+<div class="verse">The flame is at its dying flicker,</div>
+<div class="verse">Blown by hot breath, it cannot stay.</div>
+<div class="verse">Speed it with scorn, that it die quicker—</div>
+<div class="verse">Alas, the hour! Alas, the day!”</div>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>But there was another thing: He must
+go to Tongue to show Thorkel that he was
+as good a man as he, and not one to be
+scared off by a door-trap. He must go
+to Tongue, as his right was; and if it was
+his pleasure to talk to Stangerd, he would
+do it, let come what might—even if so to
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span>do were to cheapen her. And thus he left
+it, and thus it was when he did go up to
+Tongue.</p>
+
+<p>He got scowling looks from Thorkel, and
+very scared looks from Narve in response
+to his pleasant greeting. From Stangerd
+he got little. She was rather cool, he
+thought; whereas the truth was that she
+was conscious of her company and conscious
+of herself. Men had been fighting for her,
+and here she was now in the presence of
+two of them, and of a third, you may say,
+since her father would have been a fighter
+if she had not stopped him. All this
+made her shy and awkward. She could
+not feel herself that day; it was now
+for Cormac to begin. But Cormac did not
+begin.</p>
+
+<p>He was with her most of the morning,
+saying little. He felt that a look from
+her, a sigh, however little, would set
+him blazing like dry hay. But he did not
+get it, and he began to wonder whether he
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span>wanted it. He watched the play of her
+hands at the loom, he watched the light
+show silvery on her chin and neck as she
+moved about. He had glimpses of her
+deep blue eyes; while, as for her hair,
+he bathed in the golden glow and strength
+of that. She was indeed a burning lass;
+but she was not what she had been at
+first—a light and wonder of the earth.
+Tears came to his eyes as he remembered
+his first estate, and knew it lost for ever.
+And yet he loved her, and could not keep
+away from her.</p>
+
+<p>He began to judge her. He thought she
+was slow to move, somewhat insensible;
+he felt sure that she did not love him. To
+be sure, it was some testimony to a girl,
+lovely as she might be (and was, God
+knew), that a man should dare a houseful
+to see her, and fight single-handed against
+three. It was not much—poetry was much
+more—but it was something. And she
+reckoned it for nothing, and waited to be
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span>wooed. But had she not been wooed by
+that fighting? He went away early, and
+did not ask her, since she did not offer, to
+come to the door with him.</p>
+
+<p>Next day he was in a black mood and
+most wretched. He did not go to Tongue,
+which was a remarkable thing in these days.
+His mother waited for him to speak, but as
+he would not, she herself began upon the
+affair, and got short answers from him.
+Presently she said, “I will tell you this,
+my son. It was not thus that your
+father, a captain of men, wooed me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, what did he?” said Cormac.</p>
+
+<p>“He saw me at a wrestling, and spoke
+to me before it was over. Then he went
+to your grandfather and asked for me, and
+gave gifts; but I only saw him through
+the half-open door, for my mother kept
+me in the Bower. He went away without
+asking for me, and came rarely to the house.
+He used to say, ‘There is time enough.
+You will find me a good husband to you.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span>I should not have asked for you if I had
+not believed that. All I see of you, and
+all I hear, satisfies me. I am a man of
+full measures, not of half. Wait until the
+wedding-day and trust to me.’ That I did.
+Your father was a true man of his word,
+and his deeds suited his words, as a sword
+lies in a sheath.”</p>
+
+<p>“He was a true man,” said Cormac;
+but he thought in his bitterness, “That
+was a way to buy cows at a fair, but not
+to love a woman.” He went out by himself
+on to the heath; but Stangerd called him
+from afar, and he rose up presently and
+went to a place whence he could see the
+house and steading at Tongue, settling
+down into the dusk. “It is a wonderful
+thing that within those walls is the loveliest
+body upon earth, sitting on a bench,
+leaning by the board. Men are about her
+insensible of her glory, not trembling in
+the air which is about her. And I, who
+know and tremble even here, I am so
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span>cursed that I cannot go down there and
+tell my knowledge! This is madness in
+me, and must be fought. To-morrow I
+go and claim her of Thorkel. But my
+father’s way will not suit me. I shall do
+it in my own way.” He rose up and went
+home comforted.</p>
+
+<p>So much for what was to be a bad business.
+He thought nothing of the spae-wife and
+her curse upon his doings. He was too
+disturbed to think of anything or anybody.
+He seemed to be groping about with scummed
+eyes. There was a blur, a tarnish upon
+everything. The pity of it—with the glory
+so new!</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>But as for the spae-wife herself, it is told
+of her that after a while she buried her sons—for
+Gudmund never got better, and died
+without knowing her again—and crossed the
+hills into Sowerby and came to the house
+of a strong man called Berse. To him
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span>she told her tale, that her sons had been
+killed, weregild refused her, and she turned
+out of her holding by the slayer. “Therefore,”
+said she, “I come to you, Berse,
+because you are a just man.”</p>
+
+<p>Berse sat well back in his leather-seated
+chair, and laid the ankle of one leg upon
+the knee of another, and twirled his
+thumbs.</p>
+
+<p>“Who was the man that slew your
+sons?”</p>
+
+<p>She told him. “It was Black Cormac
+Ogmundsson, who lives in Midfirth.”</p>
+
+<p>Berse blinked. “I have heard tell of
+him. His father was a great Viking, and
+died ashipboard. Now wherefore did he so
+to your sons?”</p>
+
+<p>“They got bickering,” she said, “over
+Stangerd, Thorkel’s daughter.”</p>
+
+<p>Said Berse, “From breaking hearts to
+broken sconces there is a short and straight
+road. I will wager that Cormac was no
+more forward on it than your sons. If
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span>I don’t blame them, I don’t blame him
+either.”</p>
+
+<p>She said nothing to that, but waited
+on where she was.</p>
+
+<p>Berse said, “That girl of Thorkel’s is
+a fine girl, I hear.”</p>
+
+<p>Thorveig said she was. “But they will
+spoil her,” she said, “with all this quarrelling
+about her. Yet Cormac will never have
+her—that’s certain.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who says so?” said Berse.</p>
+
+<p>She answered, “I say so. I know
+it.”</p>
+
+<p>Berse went on twirling his thumbs for a
+time. Then he said, “Well, you shall
+have land of me. I know nothing against
+you. There is a steading down on the
+firth—a good small house and intake.
+You shall have that. It has a staithe into
+the water, and there are some boats go
+with it. You shall have that—but remember,
+I don’t blame Cormac Ogmundsson. I am
+the last man to do it. They call me
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span>Battle-Berse, Holmgang Berse. I’m a fighting
+man myself.”</p>
+
+<p>The spae-wife said, “And you will have
+more to do yet, Berse, with your charmed
+sword.”</p>
+
+<p>“Get along with you,” said Berse, rather
+pleased with her. “I am not so young
+as I was, and Whiting keeps the fireside
+nowadays.” Now Whiting was his famous
+sword, with which he had fought thirty
+wagers-of-battle and won them all. It had
+a magical stone in the hilt, and was said
+never to lose its edge.</p>
+
+<p>“Look to Whiting,” said the spae-wife,
+“and you won’t be sorry.” She thanked
+him for his open-handedness, but he only
+said, “Get along with you.”</p>
+
+<p>She took up her abode in Berse’s ferry-house,
+which is called Bersestead to this
+hour. It was a good house upon the further
+shore of Ramfirth, with a haven and a mole.
+Boats lay snug there. There was a ferry,
+and many men used the place to cross over
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span>the water to go into Sowerby. Berse himself
+used it, for his own house was far from the
+water, high up in the hills of Sowerby. You
+can see it from the staithe, like a patch of
+snow afar off; and a great force of water
+near by.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IX<br>
+<small>THE PLIGHTING</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">THORKEL spoke to Stangerd about
+Cormac. It was on the evening of
+the day after the battle, when he had
+gone early. “My girl,” he said, “what
+is wrong with this man of yours?”</p>
+
+<p>She flushed, and looked away from him.
+Her eyes were cloudy. “He is no man
+of mine,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” said Thorkel, “he slew a couple
+of fine fellows last night, and I suppose that
+was not for nothing.”</p>
+
+<p>She flashed him a look. “He was set
+upon by three at once—and there would
+have been a fourth at him but for me.”</p>
+
+<p>Thorkel could not deny it. “And what
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span>is to be done now?” he asked her instead.
+“Is he to make free of my house, and of
+you; to sit here scowling at you, looking
+you over, and no one to say a word? Are
+you not ashamed to be so treated? If
+your brother were here, things might go
+differently, I think. They don’t call him
+Toothgnasher for nothing.”</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd was angry; her cheek-bones
+showed it. She twisted her hands about
+and stared out of doors. “Cormac would
+not be afraid of his teeth,” she said. “He
+has teeth of his own, and has shown
+them.”</p>
+
+<p>“Little sense has he shown in this affair,”
+says Thorkel. “What does he mean by
+his singing and nonsense? He calls you
+every sounding name he can get at, and talks
+two-score to the dozen. He’ll tell you by
+the hour together what he is going to do
+with you—and you suffer it. He sets you
+up sky-high, but can’t see you because
+your head is in the clouds. What do you
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span>make of it, you who are a sensible girl, or
+were so before he ran on about your good
+looks?”</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd looked stormy, but handsomer
+than ever. Her father could not but notice
+how fine she was, with her rich colour and
+golden hair and dark blue eyes. But she
+had not much to say because she did not
+know what to make of Cormac herself, and
+she had a feeling that, sweet as his kisses
+were, she ought not to allow them until
+he declared himself. Cormac had a way
+with him which was hard to resist. He
+had a way of looking at her with narrow
+eyes, and of saying, “O Stangerd, how
+sweet and lovely you are!”—and of taking
+her. She found that very pleasant. But
+what baffled her was that at another time
+he would treat her as if she was unearthly—a
+being of the other world—and as if he
+dared not to touch her at all. Lastly, there
+was his manner of to-day, when he had
+sat dull and troubled before her, neither
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span>looking at her nor avoiding the sight of
+her, but preoccupied, with his thoughts
+elsewhere.</p>
+
+<p>Meantime Thorkel had nothing to conceal.
+He did not understand Cormac any better
+than she did; but he did not want to
+understand him.</p>
+
+<p>“I see that you choose to sulk with me,”
+he said; “but look you here, my girl. If
+this man of yours comes after you, he must
+deal with me for you; and let him get it
+into his head that I will not have my
+daughter talked about. That would be a
+disgrace upon my house which I should not
+put up with. If he don’t want you, let
+him say so, or prove it by keeping out of
+your way. I can get a husband for you
+any day; and so I shall if I am to be
+bothered by this hankering and moon-gazing.”</p>
+
+<p>With that he took himself off.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span>In the morning she was troubled, finding
+the need of Cormac, and she did what she
+had never yet done. She went out across
+the meadows and on to the fell-side to look
+for him. There was a fine rain falling,
+but the light was behind it, and it was
+more like silver mist than rain. She saw
+him coming and went down to meet him.
+The rain was shining in her hair; her cheeks
+and lips were wet. He saw her in his turn,
+and his feet answered to the leap of his heart.
+They met without words; but he took
+both her hands. She could not look at
+him, but let him hold her hands. She felt
+the might of his eyes, and liked the
+feeling.</p>
+
+<p>Presently he said: “Stangerd, now you
+shall tell me truly why you have come out
+to meet me.”</p>
+
+<p>She hung her head and would not let
+him see her face. But he did see it. She
+was burning red.</p>
+
+<p>“By that,” he said, “you have answered
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span>me. And now I ask you this—Whom would
+you choose to wed?”</p>
+
+<p>After a little she shook her fear from
+her and showed him her face. The love-light
+was in her eyes, and made her bold.
+“I should choose to wed the blind woman’s
+son,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac was very grave. “You have
+chosen as you ought,” he said. “You
+have chosen me, who have courted you
+long. So it shall be.” He drew her in
+and put his arm about her. So they stood
+awhile together. Then Cormac stooped his
+head to her, and kissed her mouth. He
+did it just so, deliberately, and without
+passion. No words were said. She did not
+know what to make of it. His mood was
+very strange.</p>
+
+<p>They went together to the house, and
+by degrees Cormac’s tongue was loosened
+and he told her of the battle, and spoke
+of his glumness of the other day. “I felt
+as if I had been enticed into cheapening
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span>you by that bout. I felt on a level with
+those snarling swine—one of a pack
+about your skirts. I felt that I had been
+digging a dyke between you and me; it
+was full of black sludge and slipping eels.
+When I loved you first you were glorious
+to me—as you are to-day; but yesterday
+there was a skin over my eyes. I did not
+see you glorious. If I cannot love you
+well, I will not love you at all. You
+shall be more than wife to me—or
+nothing.”</p>
+
+<p>He kissed her very often after that and
+comforted her. She was not bewildered
+any more, and could talk to him freely.</p>
+
+<p>“Will you not make peace with my father
+now?” she asked him. “Do it for my
+sake. He says hard things to me, and
+I can’t answer him for fear he may say
+what I could not bear.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac promised her that, and she was
+pleased. “Nobody could refuse you anything
+when you are like that,” she said.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span></p>
+
+<p>“Ho!” said he; “but I shall not kiss
+your father.”</p>
+
+<p>“If you are friendly to him, he will take
+it well,” she told him. “You are of
+good fortune—as good as he is—and of
+good descent. That is what he will
+look to.”</p>
+
+<p>“Such things mean little to me,” said
+Cormac. “The best thing I can say for
+myself is that you, who might choose
+the King of Norway, choose me, Cormac
+Ogmundsson of Melstead.”</p>
+
+<p>She laughed. “You must find a better
+thing to say than that. If I don’t believe
+you, how shall he?”</p>
+
+<p>“Shall I make you believe me, Stangerd?”
+he said with eagerness.</p>
+
+<p>But she would not let him. “Ask for
+me,” she said, “as the custom is, and not
+in the way of skalds and minstrels. He
+does not like your rhyming about me.”</p>
+
+<p>“But you, Stangerd, are pleased when
+I sing of you?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span>She thought for a little while, then
+cast herself upon his breast. “Oh,” she
+said, “I am pleased, whatever you do
+with me.”</p>
+
+<p>Then he said fondly: “I will tell you
+what I would do with you now, Stangerd.
+I would carry you in my arms out of the
+house, and through the meadows, and up
+into the fells. I know a place—a high
+place where there is a holm, and the grass
+grows green, and there are tall trees, and
+within them a hush. And there I would
+wed you upon a bed of rock-rose, under
+the stars. And I would build you a house
+there, and make an altar of stones before
+it, and keep a fire of fragrant wood burning
+there perpetually. Nobody should see you
+for a long time but the sun, the moon, the
+stars, and me. And you should be loved
+as never woman was loved before, your
+body by my body, and your spirit by mine.
+When you were a mother, I would summon
+all men to come and do you worship. And
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span>the songs I would make of you would go
+all over the world, and your name would
+be whispered about like the name of
+Fricka, the goddess who gives love and
+life to men.”</p>
+
+<p>She blushed at his ardent talk, and
+welcomed it, for she was susceptible to
+his moods, though she did not at all understand
+them, and knew that this was the
+one that became him best. “Oh,” she
+said, “what wild words! But you must
+woo me as a girl and not as a goddess.
+Therefore you shall ask for me properly
+of my father, and then you shall take me
+where you will.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” he said, “I will do it; but it
+is proper to have witnesses and upholders
+with me. Therefore I will come to-morrow
+with my brother Thorgils, and then everything
+will be in order. But for all that
+I should like it best that I might carry you
+away now in my arms.”</p>
+
+<p>She believed that that was very true,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span>but she had an orderly mind, and could
+not consider such wild-goose plans.</p>
+
+<p>He stayed with her till it grew dark, and
+then left her. She felt very much drawn
+to him; more than she had ever been when
+he was away from her, for his power was
+strong upon her when he was with her,
+and seemed little when he had gone. But
+now she knew that she had desire of him
+and was ready for the day when he should
+take her home to Melstead. For all her
+beauty and high colour she was a slow-blooded
+girl; nobody had ever stirred her
+as Cormac had now done. Many men had
+courted her, and she had been pleased with
+their attentions, and flattered by them;
+but this man had awoken the woman in
+her.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>As for Cormac, he went homewards with
+feet of lead. He had no idea what was the
+matter with him; but matter there was.
+Once he stopped short and rubbed his eyes.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span>“What is the meaning of this? I leave
+Stangerd, the wonder of the world, her
+accepted lover, and my heart is like cold
+plum-pudding. And at the sheep-homing,
+after I had been a day with her, I came
+flying, with feet that scarcely touched the
+heather tufts! What is this? She is the
+same—nay, she is more beautiful than she
+was. She is like golden fruit upon a wall.
+To lie in the arms of Stangerd is a thing
+scarce to be thought of—to love her at night
+under the stars—a man might go mad
+waiting for such a joy. But I am not
+mad; though now I wait. There is something
+the matter with me. When I talk
+to her of her beauty I grow by degrees to
+believe it; but when I think of it, or see
+it, I don’t believe it. And yet I am the
+same man that I was; I am that Cormac
+who believed because he knew. Am I so
+truly? If I am not—but I tell you that
+I am. Love her? Ah, but I do love her—I
+do—I tell you I do.” Then he went
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span>on his way, but at the edge of his heart
+there was fear like a blanket of fog,
+threatening to muffle, and deaden, and
+stifle it.</p>
+
+<p>He told his mother and brother about his
+doings, and asked Thorgils to go with him
+on the morrow to ask for Stangerd. Thorgils
+said he would certainly go; and “They
+say that you have got a fine, tall girl for
+a wife, and a handsome girl, and a
+good one.”</p>
+
+<p>“She is all that,” Cormac said, “and
+much more than that. I believe she is
+the most beautiful girl that ever was
+born.”</p>
+
+<p>Dalla, his mother, shook her head. “I
+shall never see her; but I shall tell by the
+feel of her. I hope she is even-tempered;
+for your wife will need to be.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac said, “I am sure that she has
+given me her heart. I am sure that she
+has mine in exchange. With that, all is
+well, I take it.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span>“If you are sure of these things, all is
+well indeed,” said Dalla.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac grew hot.</p>
+
+<p>“It does not become you to doubt me.
+I tell you again that I have loved her so
+much that I have slain two men to prove
+it. I have loved her night and day. I
+have made good songs, I have been in great
+heart. Love has made me taller than other
+men. When I first saw her it seemed to
+me that she was like the core of light—that
+strong light enclosed her like a sheath—and
+that she lay quivering within it like
+a sword.”</p>
+
+<p>“All this,” said his mother, “is very
+fine,” and put Cormac into a rage.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, you scoff at my way—as if
+by a lip curled back you could refute
+a lover. Well, you must find out for
+yourself how much I love her. You will
+have time.”</p>
+
+<p>“I shall find out,” Dalla said. But
+Cormac had gone out of the house.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span>Dalla stretched out her hands to the
+fire. “I am not contented,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils looked troubled. “It was a
+bad piece of work that he outed Thorveig.
+I backed him, because I could not do otherwise.
+But he was wrong. Her ill-conditioned
+boys were dead. He might have
+left her alone. He has never been the same
+since.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay,” said Dalla, “she would have
+cast misfortune upon him because he would
+not pay a ransom.”</p>
+
+<p>“A bad business,” said Thorgils, “a bad
+business. He’ll take it hard.”</p>
+
+<p>Said Dalla, “Do you take me to
+Thorveig. The spell must be moved.”</p>
+
+<p>“Too late,” said Thorgils.</p>
+
+<p>Dalla did her best to hearten him.
+“Cormac is moody by nature; there may
+be no spell at all.”</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils said, “I doubt that she has done
+it. She read it into him. She has the
+second sight.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span>Next day they rode over the hill to
+Tongue, to ask for Stangerd. Three of them
+went—Cormac, Thorgils, and Toste the
+reeve. They took gifts with them—a fine
+saddle, scarlet cloaks embroidered with gold
+and blue, and long horns for drinking, with
+golden covers and chains—treasure of
+Ogmund the Viking, long laid up for such
+a use. They found Thorkel sitting in his
+hall, in his finest clothes, on the daïs,
+surrounded by his men and his friends.
+He loved things to be ceremonious.
+Stangerd was not present.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac asked squarely for her, promising
+a good price. “I set this sum upon her,”
+he said, “not because it represents her
+worth, which is to me beyond human prices;
+but because it is the custom.”</p>
+
+<p>“She is worth a good price,” Thorkel
+said.</p>
+
+<p>One of the company added: “She is the
+best-made girl I ever saw.” Another said:
+“Many would be after her if they knew she
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span>was to be had. Or Thorkel might take her
+to Norway and find some earl glad to
+have her.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac chafed, and looked very black,
+biting his cheek.</p>
+
+<p>“The less we say about prices the better,”
+he said. “I have complied with custom,
+to serve you. But I can’t go on with it.”</p>
+
+<p>“All in order, Cormac,” Thorkel said.
+“Law is law, and money is money.”</p>
+
+<p>So the talk ran on in this fashion; and
+then Thorkel said, “This will want thinking
+about—a deal of thinking it will want.
+It seems to me that your offer should be
+stretched. If my son Toothgnasher were
+here he would say so—that I know. But
+he is on the sea, levying war. Should he
+come home in the spring with a good
+cargo, that will make us look foolish—to
+have bargained away his sister to the first
+comer. Toothgnasher sets great store by
+Stangerd. We must think of the absent
+as much as we can.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span>Toste said, “Our land is as much as
+yours, and much of it is better. Your
+girl will be no loser by coming to Melstead.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, it is I will be the loser, it seems,”
+Thorkel said—and his friends took his
+side.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac was beside himself with rage.
+“You shall finish this talk without me,”
+he said. “My brother knows more of such
+matters than I do. By your leave, I will
+go and see Stangerd.” Whereupon he
+broke away from the company and went
+through the door which led to the Bower.
+She was there at the loom, other girls with
+her. She looked strangely at him. Her eyes
+were like blue flowers.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac went to her and kissed her,
+not very gently. “Stangerd, they are
+haggling over you as if you were a heifer.
+Such things sicken me. You and I know
+what is to be, and those dealers can never
+know. Give me your hand.”</p>
+
+<p>She did. He put a ring upon her finger.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span>“That is a token, my love,” he said. “Let
+them do their foulest. I have gone to work
+in my own fashion. Speak to me now and
+tell me what I wish to hear.”</p>
+
+<p>She asked him. “What is it that you
+wish to hear?”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah!” said Cormac, “if you don’t know
+that by this time, I can hardly tell you
+before these girls.”</p>
+
+<p>She grew red. “You are angry with me.
+I don’t know why. I thought that a
+betrothal was otherwise done.”</p>
+
+<p>It is true that he was angry; and if she
+did not know why, neither could he tell
+her, for he didn’t know himself. While
+they were standing there, handfasted but
+yet far apart, one came in to say that the
+bargain was made, and that Stangerd must
+come in for the plighting before witnesses.
+Cormac said that he would bring her in,
+but was told that could hardly be. He
+tossed up his head and tapped with his
+foot; but Stangerd paid no attention to
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span>him. She signalled to her maids that they
+should follow her, and went into the hall,
+leaving Cormac to follow as best he might.</p>
+
+<p>He was well called Black Cormac for that
+day, at any rate. But the thing was done,
+and there was a feast. He had no songs
+for them, though.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER X<br>
+<small>THE DAY OF THE WEDDING</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">THE wedding was to be in early spring;
+as soon as the weather was open,
+because Cormac would not wait any
+longer, and there were no signs of Toothgnasher’s
+ship. Stangerd did not at all
+understand why he was in such a hurry,
+and he could not tell her, though he knew
+very well why it was.</p>
+
+<p>He felt that if he was not married very
+soon he would not be married at all. It
+was not that he did not love Stangerd, and
+love her very much, but that he loved her
+in another way—a way which irritated and
+confused him and hampered the free
+passage of his mind. He could not enjoy
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span>the sight of her beauty, or be happy in
+seeing her do things beautifully, as formerly
+he had. He loved her now in a greedy
+and grudging way, which seemed to sap
+the roots of happiness. He did not like
+to see her look at another man or even give
+her mind to anything which was not to
+do with him. He said to himself, “I
+think of nothing but her—and why should
+she be otherwise? Must all the giving be
+on my side?” It was not so at all, if he
+had thought, or been able to think, of it.
+She loved him with the whole of her being;
+and what more could she have done? But
+there it was. His happiness was destroyed
+by this love; his song forsook him. His
+mind was preoccupied: he had no hold
+on it. He could not think, or see good
+things, or take pleasure in anything. Stangerd
+filled him up. There were times when
+he cursed the day on which he saw her;
+times when he hated her.</p>
+
+<p>And while he must by all means see her,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span>know what she was doing, and prevent
+her being with other people, he was not
+happy with her. He was silent and morose.
+He made her unhappy, and knew that he
+did. There seemed always a grievance
+unatoned for, and another forming upon
+the scar of the old. All this was so unlike
+himself that he could not help contrasting
+it with what he had been before disaster
+fell upon him. In thinking it over, it
+seemed to him that he had been inconceivably
+happy before this fell upon him. He
+seemed to be looking back from a dark place
+upon himself free and glorious in the light
+of the sun. That he should count the day
+of his plighting his day of disaster shows
+you to what a state he had come. And yet
+he desired her keenly, and thought day
+and night of what he should do to her when
+she was his.</p>
+
+<p>As for Stangerd, she would have been
+happy enough if he could have left her alone.
+It was very pleasant to her to feel his
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span>domination when it was plainly exerted
+by love. His kisses were fierce and furious,
+but they were sweet if they were dangerous.
+She had a cool head and a steady heart;
+she did not love in that sort of way; but
+she admired those who did, and allowed
+him what he chose without fear or sense of
+danger. But when love became something
+like hate, when kisses turned to biting,
+she was made unhappy, and came to resent
+it as an indignity.</p>
+
+<p>“What have I done? Why do you treat
+me like this?” she would ask him, and
+he would gloom and scowl.</p>
+
+<p>“You have shown me what you really
+are. You have no heart, but in your
+beautiful bosom you have a dark nest of
+pride. Pride like a bed of snakes is there—a
+dozen angry heads with darting tongues.
+Flat heads with narrow eyes looking all
+ways to strike.”</p>
+
+<p>Tears clouded her blue eyes. “You are
+hateful to say such things. I let you do
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span>what you choose with me; you come and
+go as you will, and I am always here for
+you. You are free of the house, and free
+of me—and yet you never have kind looks
+for it. I don’t know what has come over
+you.”</p>
+
+<p>In her heart of hearts she believed that
+he had been cursed by the spae-wife; but
+she dared not hint it for her life. Some
+such thing had been whispered, and Cormac
+had flown into a great passion and gone
+out with his sword in his hand to find the
+man who had said it.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>So the time wore on, and the ice broke
+up upon the firth, and the days grew
+longer, and through the fog you could hear
+the thunder of the falling snow. Cormac
+said that the wedding must be soon; and
+then about the equinox there came a ship
+from Ireland into the firth, and reported
+the Toothgnasher’s ship as on the way
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span>home. Thorkel said that they must wait
+for him by all means, and Cormac was left
+to his mother to deal with.</p>
+
+<p>She found him difficult. He jibbed at
+the Toothgnasher, and it seemed to her
+that he had been anxious all along to get
+Stangerd away before her brother could be
+home.</p>
+
+<p>“But I had sooner be done with them
+without Toothgnasher,” he said to his
+mother. “I shall have to deal with him
+later, I don’t doubt. No, decidedly I shall
+not wait for Toothgnasher. Let him ease
+his hot gums on other men’s affairs—not
+mine.”</p>
+
+<p>“But he is Thorkel’s only son; he is
+Stangerd’s only brother,” said she. “You
+are unreasonable.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah!” cried Cormac, “how do you know
+I am unreasonable? I tell you I won’t
+have him there.”</p>
+
+<p>“What has Stangerd to say to this?”
+She put this to him because she was at her
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span>wits’ end. Cormac gloomed, and jutted out
+his chin.</p>
+
+<p>“I have not spoken to her. She knows
+that I have no liking for Toothgnasher.
+She will say what I wish her to say.”</p>
+
+<p>But it appeared that here he was wrong.
+Stangerd wanted her brother to be at the
+wedding. She begged it of Cormac. She
+went so far as to kiss him of her own accord—a
+thing which she very rarely did. He
+remarked upon it, with bitterness, and
+stored the memory in his troubled heart.
+There it remained as a grievance, instead
+of a happy memory: the grievance was
+that she had not done it before. But he
+would not promise. Then Stangerd grew
+hot and showed her cheek-bones.</p>
+
+<p>“You treat me very ill. It is the bride’s
+right to fix her wedding-day. You force
+me to tell you so.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac turned rather grey in the face.
+“If force drives you against my wish it
+is a poor look-out from where we stand
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span>now. And I will tell you this, Stangerd.
+It will take more force than you and
+your brother and Thorkel have at call to
+drive me against my will.” With that he
+left her.</p>
+
+<p>He did not see her again until the day
+which had formerly been fixed for the
+wedding. On that day he had expected
+his mother and Thorgils to ride with him
+to Tongue as if for the wedding; but they
+would not go with him. Dalla said that
+he was acting outrageously, and he knew
+that he was. But the black fit was upon
+him. “If you will not come to my wedding,”
+he said, “I shall go alone.”</p>
+
+<p>Go he did, and found Stangerd with her
+sleeves rolled up, at the well, washing linen.
+The morning was a fair one, with a fresh
+wind blowing from the land, and spray
+from the firth. Cormac had fine clothes
+on him, with a new scarlet cloak fastened
+at the shoulder with a golden brooch.</p>
+
+<p>Two of the girls stood up to look at him;
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span>but Stangerd bent down to the bulging linen,
+and pommelled it with a will.</p>
+
+<p>“Is that your bridal gown you are wetting
+there?” said Cormac.</p>
+
+<p>“The bride’s dress is still on the loom,”
+said one of the maids.</p>
+
+<p>“What day is this?” he cried out.</p>
+
+<p>“Washing day,” said she, “and a good
+drying day.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah,” said Cormac, “and you will be
+drying more than linen this day. You will
+be drying up the sap of a man.”</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd had nothing to say. In a fury
+he slipped off his horse and went to her.
+He stood over her with threatening eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“Is this how you greet your husband?
+Is this how our wedding is to be?”</p>
+
+<p>She did not flinch, but gave him a steady
+look upwards from where she knelt below
+him.</p>
+
+<p>“It will not be so when the day comes—not
+so on my part,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>“However it be, it will be you who have
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span>made it as it will be,” he told her. She
+said no more.</p>
+
+<p>One of the girls said, “Toothgnasher is
+off the islands. He will be here soon.”</p>
+
+<p>“The trolls take Toothgnasher,” said
+Cormac, and mounted, and rode home.</p>
+
+<p>In the mood he was in now, nothing
+could be done with him at home.
+Thorgils, his brother, was a peacefully-disposed
+man who never said very much.
+His mother had learned the limits of her
+tether and did not pull against a rope and
+an iron peg. Both of them thought him
+in the wrong; but Thorgils was sure that
+the spae-wife had done all the mischief.
+What Dalla may have thought about that,
+she kept to herself, for she knew how furious
+Cormac would have been. He took to the
+fells in these days and was seldom seen.
+Nobody knew what he did there. Stangerd
+never saw him, and felt herself aggrieved.</p>
+
+<p>At the beginning of the summer, Toothgnasher
+brought his ship into the firth and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span>laid her up. He was a tall, high-coloured
+man, with a fine flaxen beard on his lip.
+He had dark blue eyes like Stangerd’s:
+they were a fine couple. Thorkel made much
+of him, and very soon gave him his
+bearings.</p>
+
+<p>He stared when he heard the state of
+the case. “Why, what possesses the man?
+Is it witchcraft?”</p>
+
+<p>“Some fiend has him. There is no doing
+anything with him,” Thorkel said.</p>
+
+<p>“There is one thing to do with him,”
+said Toothgnasher. “You had better let
+me go and talk with him.”</p>
+
+<p>Thorkel shook his head. “Stangerd
+would not like that.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” said Toothgnasher, “and do you
+think she likes the thing as it stands?”</p>
+
+<p>But Thorkel’s advice prevailed, that
+Cormac should be summoned to the
+marriage. This was done. Word was
+brought by Narve, who saw Thorgils.</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils said he would give Cormac the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span>message, but that he was from home just
+now. “And I think he is up in the fells,”
+he said.</p>
+
+<p>“And what will he be doing there at this
+season?” Narve asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Amusing himself,” said Thorgils, “with
+trapping and such-like.”</p>
+
+<p>“He will find few things there so hard
+to trap as we find at home,” Narve said.</p>
+
+<p>At Tongue the opinion was that he would
+come; but that was not Stangerd’s opinion.
+She kept her thoughts very private, and
+would not talk to her maids. Her heart
+was sore at the slight put upon her for no
+fault of her own, and as well as that she
+had the memory of Cormac in his days of
+eager wooing. They had been sweet, and
+the sweeter they the bitterer her present
+dule. But she did not cry, for that was
+not her way when she was sad, but only
+when she was offended. At this time she
+was more sad than offended. And she
+hoped up to the very last that the cloud
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span>would lift from her sky before it was too
+late. She was not yet offended; but she
+was a proud girl, and knew that she could
+never forgive him if he failed her.</p>
+
+<p>And so the time wore on to the day of
+the wedding, when she was dressed in fine
+clothes, and wore a gold crown on her head.
+She sat still and flushed with clenched
+hands, on the daïs with her maids; her
+kinsfolk and acquaintances sat at the
+tables; but none came from Melstead.</p>
+
+<p>They sat there, saying at first little, and
+then nothing for an hour or more. Presently
+Narve, who was always hopping to the
+door and back, cried out, “I see a man
+riding this way.”</p>
+
+<p>No one spoke. Stangerd’s heart was a
+stone.</p>
+
+<p>He said again, “I know him. It is
+Thorgils, Cormac’s brother. And he comes
+alone.”</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils came into the hall and saluted
+the company. Thorkel bade him welcome.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span>Then he said, “We looked to see more
+of you from Melstead, but you come alone.
+What are we to make of it?”</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils was very much troubled. “I
+can only tell you what I know myself. The
+summons was given to Cormac on the day
+it was delivered to me. I bade him to the
+marriage, and he said he would remember
+it and do what was right. After that he
+went away, and I have not seen him since.
+What’s more, I can’t tell where he is. He
+may be on the sea for all I know.”</p>
+
+<p>There was silence for some time. Then
+Stangerd went away, with her maids
+following her. She could not now hide
+her tears, and they came freely, and
+burning hot.</p>
+
+<p>When she was gone, Thorkel said, “This
+is a great affront put upon me by your
+brother, and I am not to pass over it. He
+sought the girl, and I agreed to it, as you
+know, though not willingly, for I never
+fancied the match. Then he began to behave
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span>strangely, and it has gone on from bad to
+worse. You tell me you have nothing more
+to say—and now I tell you that I also
+have come to an end of speaking.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, indeed,” said Toothgnasher. “It
+is not a case for talk; but Cormac and I
+shall have other things to do than talk to
+each other.”</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils said, “That will be as it must
+be. It is likely that there will be more to
+come. I can only say that we are concerned
+for Cormac. He is not himself in
+this. His life has been crossed. There is
+a spell upon him. But you have nothing
+to do with that, and I can’t ask you even
+to believe it. But do not think that Cormac
+is pleasing himself in this affair. He is
+of all men the most unhappy. But Fate
+rules us all.”</p>
+
+<p>They stared or gloomed at him according
+as their natures moved them. It was plain
+there was nothing more to be said to Thorgils,
+who presently saluted the company and took
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span>himself off. Toothgnasher went into the
+Bower to see Stangerd.</p>
+
+<p>She had stopped her tears, but her eyes
+were very red; and she was tired, without
+heart to speak much about it. When,
+however, Toothgnasher began to talk about
+the affront, she broke out afresh, “Oh,
+he is cruel, he is cruel to use me so!”</p>
+
+<p>“He is tired of you, sweetheart,” her
+brother said; but she would not have it so.</p>
+
+<p>“No, no, no! That is not so. He loves
+me—he loves me too much. But he is
+proud, and he makes me feel his pride. I
+know very well how it is. He is the most
+wretched of men just now. He wants me
+sorely, but will not come. He knows that
+I could soothe him—and so I could—but he
+will not allow it.”</p>
+
+<p>“By Heaven and Earth,” said Toothgnasher,
+“I have the means to humble that
+pride of his.”</p>
+
+<p>She put hands upon him. “Brother,”
+she said, “you shall not touch him—or if you
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span>do you will have seen the last of me. It
+is the way of men to think that they can
+assuage every grief by slashing at each
+other. They do nothing but comfort to
+themselves.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is the business of kinsfolk to avenge
+each other, however you take it,” said
+Toothgnasher.</p>
+
+<p>“And what comfort is it to me if you
+slay the man I love or if he slay you?”
+she asked him, and then she asked herself,
+“Is there any fool in the world the equal
+of a man?”</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>As for Cormac, he did not appear at
+Melstead for two days more. Then he came
+in haggard and unwashen, and would do
+nothing but sit and gaze about him, taking
+quick and short breath. Nobody knew
+where he had been. He was splashed all
+up his legs with brown—so he had been
+in the peat hags, they judged. He said
+nothing about Stangerd, but sat about the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span>house for two or three days without speaking
+at all. After that he seemed to have
+gathered strength, for he collected himself
+and did some work in the meadows. He
+seemed to have forgotten Stangerd altogether,—but
+he had not, as it turned out.</p>
+
+<p>Now as to this curious business there is
+plenty to say, and every man will put his
+own interpretation upon it, and every
+woman also. There must be few women
+who will not have experience within them
+to bring to the reading. A poet (not
+Cormac) has reasoned it out, but we need
+not bring in any more poets to the argument—at
+present. On the showing of this
+instructed man the day of misfortune was
+the day when Cormac kissed Stangerd first.
+There may be much truth in this.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XI<br>
+<small>BERSE COMES IN</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">WHETHER or no Cormac had got the
+better of his love-affair—and nobody
+knew but himself—it had made a great
+to-do at Tongue. But the people there
+did not see how to set about avenging
+the slight put upon them, since Stangerd
+would not hear of fighting, or have Cormac
+challenged for atonement. It was judged
+finally, after much talk, that they must
+get her married, lest the countryside should
+think that she had lost her only chance—which
+was nonsense, seeing what a splendid
+girl she was, and how much counted.</p>
+
+<p>So they brought up the name of this man
+and that man, but could not decide upon
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span>any one man, until Narve, always ready
+with the tongue, lit upon Berse of Sowerby.
+“Now there’s a man,” he said, “of all
+men in the world the most proper. A
+powerful man, a very pleasant, affable,
+middle-aged man, a man of wealth, and a
+man of his hands. Bring him into your
+quarrel, and the thing is done. Your young
+fire-eater will have little to say to <i>him</i>, you
+may be sure.”</p>
+
+<p>That was true. The man was a notable
+champion. They called him Battle-Berse,
+Holmgang Berse, and Wager-of-Battle Berse—which
+all mean the same thing; for the
+Holmgang is to go to the holm for the fight’s
+sake; and in the wager-of-battle you back
+your quarrel with another man’s blood. In
+that way Berse had backed his no less than
+thirty times, and had never lost it. Besides
+that, he had I don’t know how many
+homicides to his account. It has been said
+before that he had had about enough of
+it, and was for peace and plenty in these
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span>days. He was a widower, survivor of a
+fine woman called Finna the Fair; he was
+rich, and he was getting fat—not unwieldy,
+you understand, but comfortably fat. But
+still, not a doubt about it, he would give
+a good account of himself upon the field
+when he was called there.</p>
+
+<p>He was the man, let me remind the reader,
+who had given harbourage to Thorveig the
+spae-wife after the killing of her sons.
+He gave her the ferry-house at Bersestead,
+where you cross over to go into
+Sowerby.</p>
+
+<p>Well, they talked him over at Tongue,
+with other men, and none was found so
+suitable; so presently, without a word to
+Stangerd, Toothgnasher, Narve and one or
+two others went over to his country and
+found him at home. As well as himself
+there were his sister Hilda in the house, a
+personable, active woman, a pretty girl,
+very fond of Berse, called Stanvor Slimlegs,
+and his young son Osmund—a boy of ten
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span>years old or so. He was very glad to see
+them, and made them a good entertainment.</p>
+
+<p>They talked in the evenings of this, that,
+and the other. To get Berse upon his
+fighting days was to get him at his best;
+and it appeared that he was still a roaring
+boy for all his grizzled beard and dewlap.
+There was the girl Stanvor, for example,
+as pretty a girl as ever you saw, with legs
+which certainly deserved to be famous—as
+they were. Now that girl was daughter
+to a man called Ord who lived, not at
+Tongue on Midfirth, but at Tongue in Bitra.
+He was a fisherman with many men in his
+employ, and in a quarrel which arose over
+the merits of men in those parts, this Ord
+maintained that Berse of Sowerby, Battle-Berse,
+was the bigger man as against one
+Thorarin of Gutdale. The story came to
+Thorarin’s ears—an ill-conditioned, strong
+man—who one fine day came down to
+Tongue in Bitra when no men were about,
+and picked up Stanvor out of the garth
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span>and carried her off with him. Ord in his
+trouble went to Battle-Berse, saying, “This
+blow was struck at me because I spoke well
+of you. I look to you now, Berse, to wipe
+out my shame.” Berse said that he wanted
+no man’s good word, but would do what
+he could. He armed himself with sword
+and three spears, and rode down the valley
+and over the ridge and down again into
+Gutdale. He got there late, when the men
+were come in from the fields and the women
+setting the tables. He saw Stanvor at
+the back door and beckoned to her. She
+ran up and told him her troubles. Berse
+got off his horse, and took her by the hand.
+“Hold the horse,” he said, “and these spears,
+and wait for me here.” “Oh, where are you
+for?” she said, and he told her. It was
+a pity to come so far for such a little thing
+as she was—and “I’m going to see who’s
+at home.” She said, “The men are all
+in there at the fires.” “I know that,”
+says Berse, and goes up and bangs at the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span>door with his fist. A man came out. “Go
+and tell Thorarin that Berse wants to see
+him,” he was told. Presently out comes
+Thorarin with a bill in his hand and makes
+a slash at Berse with it. Berse had his
+famous sword Whiting ready for him, and
+gave him a cut through the neck into the
+shoulder, which was his death-blow. Then
+he went back to his horse, mounted, pulled
+up Stanvor, put her before him, and galloped
+down the road to a wood. Deep in the wood
+he left Stanvor with the horse, but he himself
+went back to the skirts of it to wait for
+the hue-and-cry. Thorarin had three sons,
+who came out after Berse, expecting to
+trap him further on as he entered the pass
+into the hills. It proved otherwise, for it
+was Berse who trapped the trappers. He
+had three spears to Thorarin’s three sons,
+and he threw each of them, and with each
+brought his man down. The rest of the
+outcry ran back to the house. Berse lay
+the three bodies out side by side, and his
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span>cloak across them to show who had done
+the business, and then went back to the
+horse and the girl. He took Stanvor home
+with him to his walled house in the hills;
+and she would not leave him, and never
+did. That was the kind of man Battle-Berse
+was; and always very good-tempered
+over it, a most agreeable man, as Narve
+had said.</p>
+
+<p>He told this tale now to his guests, sitting
+in his elbow-chair with his arm round
+Stanvor herself, she leaning against the elbow
+with her head on one side, and eyes cast
+down. When it came to the point where
+Berse said that she would not leave him
+and never did, she looked at him gravely,
+with a little half-smile, very pretty to see.
+Berse gave her a squeeze and said: “Hey,
+sweetheart, is that true?”</p>
+
+<p>Stanvor nodded her head, still smiling,
+and said, “I shan’t leave you till you
+tell me to go.”</p>
+
+<p>You couldn’t help liking the man.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span>Many such stories Berse had to tell, but
+it was not for such things they had come
+out. The talk flew about from men’s
+courage to women’s looks; and presently
+Narve spoke of Stangerd as the fairest of
+women, and Berse did not deny it.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s a pretty girl here,” he said,
+“and a dainty girl, very fond of me; but
+I know that Stangerd’s beauty is like a cornfield
+in bearing to a poor man’s patch of
+rye-grass compared to little Stanvor’s.”</p>
+
+<p>“You heard, most likely,” Narve said,
+“of the way she was treated by Cormac
+Ogmundsson of Melstead? A great shame.”</p>
+
+<p>Berse twinkled and set his thumbs twirling
+like the sails of a mill. “I heard something
+of it,” he said; “and a fine young man,
+too, by all accounts.”</p>
+
+<p>“Too fine,” says Narve; and then
+Toothgnasher said, “Not fine enough.”</p>
+
+<p>Berse nodded very comfortably. “These
+young men go about on the tips of their
+toes, asking you to stand out of their way
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span>lest by chance they should walk into you.
+Not but what the match was a good one.
+I’ve been told something of Cormac’s
+handiness with weapons.”</p>
+
+<p>Narve snapped his fingers. “What are
+his hands or his weapons to you, Berse?”</p>
+
+<p>Berse smiled. “Well, to me, maybe, they
+are less than to yourself, my friend.”</p>
+
+<p>“And the match is clean off, mind you,”
+Narve went on. “They say, indeed, that
+he’s out of the country, and like enough
+gone Viking like his father before him.”</p>
+
+<p>Berse said no more at the time, but he
+turned it over. He knew Thorkel was rich,
+he knew Stangerd was very handsome. He
+liked good-looking girls, and he liked riches.
+When Toothgnasher was getting ready to
+go home, Berse said he thought he would
+go down with him. And so he did.</p>
+
+<p>Before he started Stanvor came to him.
+“Where are you going, master?” she asked
+him.</p>
+
+<p>He twinkled all over his face, and looking
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span>quizzically at her, pinched her cheek. “I
+am going down to the frith,” he said, “to
+see a fine girl, and like enough that is what
+I shall do with her when I get on terms.”</p>
+
+<p>She stood flushed and serious before him.
+“It is like enough, indeed,” she said, “and
+you may do what you will with her for me.
+But I know that she will not love you as
+I do.”</p>
+
+<p>Berse put his heavy hand on her shoulder.
+“I think that’s true. But what if I bring
+her back to Sowerby? What will you say
+then, pretty one? By all accounts she’s
+big enough to eat you up and want more.”</p>
+
+<p>She bore his glance. “There will still
+be room here for me,” she said. “I shall
+do no harm to anybody.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, indeed,” said Berse. “But you’ll
+bring happiness wherever you are.” With
+that he kissed her.</p>
+
+<p>She saw him away, and stood in the rain
+looking after him until he was swallowed
+up in it. Then she went back into the house
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span>and was busy. She was a slightly-made,
+graceful girl, with a pale, round face, and
+large, blue-grey eyes. She had brown hair
+which rippled like running water and curled
+at the ends. She looked delicate, but was
+extremely strong. She never had much to
+say, to anyone but Berse; but with him she
+would talk freely.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XII<br>
+<small>STANGERD’S WEDDING</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">BERSE, with all his experience to back
+him, admired Stangerd very much.
+She was a big girl, with a strong throat
+and deep chest; she had not much to say,
+but was not at all shy. These qualities
+pleased him; but he thought her golden
+hair and hot colouring splendid, and would
+certainly marry her if he could come to
+terms with her father. When she came
+to serve him with mead in the hall, he took
+her hand and looked up at her.</p>
+
+<p>“I wonder that a girl like you should
+remain at home, Stangerd,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>She blushed. “That may not be my
+fault, sir.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span>“No, no,” said Berse, “but it will be a
+strange fault in the fine young men I see
+hereabouts if they leave you alone. I shall
+look to see you in the golden wreath before
+many days.”</p>
+
+<p>“That is as my father pleases, sir,”
+said she.</p>
+
+<p>That was about all he said to her, but
+he kept his eyes upon her most of the
+evening, and when she had gone to bed
+he talked to Thorkel about her, and asked
+what he would give with her.</p>
+
+<p>Thorkel, who had small eyes, shifted
+them about Berse without meeting his, and
+said that he didn’t rightly know, but he
+supposed that a girl like his was worth a
+goodish deal in herself. He had been
+thinking it over, and had no doubt
+Berse would have done the same. He
+would like to know what Berse thought
+about it.</p>
+
+<p>Berse said that there had been some talk
+about her lately in respect of Cormac
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span>Ogmundsson. “And no man cares for that,”
+he said.</p>
+
+<p>Thorkel said there was nothing in it,
+and Berse said, “Perhaps not.” But he heard
+that Cormac was a bold man with his hands.
+Then he said: “I will tell you this, Thorkel,
+that I will take your quarrel upon me, and
+quit you of any mischiefs with Cormac
+and his friends. But you must deal fairly
+in the matter of dowry,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>So they haggled over it till far into the
+night, and came to terms, one of which
+was that the wedding should be done
+quickly, and another that Stangerd was
+not to be told anything about it until just
+before. Berse boggled at that. “You cut
+me out of my respectable pleasures,” he
+said. “It is very pleasant to court a girl.
+It is very pleasant to see her deal with a
+matter so momentous to her. Can anything
+in her life touch her so nearly?”</p>
+
+<p>But Thorkel knew better than to listen
+to him. “You may be sure that my counsel
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span>is wise,” he said. “Stangerd is a good
+girl if ever there was one, but her heart
+was very much set upon Cormac, who lives
+just over the hill. Who can say what she
+might not contrive? Do you wish for
+bloodshedding upon your marriage-day?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” said Berse, “I am not sure—but
+have it as you will.”</p>
+
+<p>Next day he went home, but not before
+he had talked with Stangerd. “We shall
+meet again, Stangerd,” he said to her.
+“I hope that you and I may be good
+friends.”</p>
+
+<p>“It takes two to make a friendship,”
+said Stangerd.</p>
+
+<p>Berse said, “You are right. But one
+may begin, and the other catch the
+complaint. Now I am a man very prone
+to friendships. How is it with you?”</p>
+
+<p>She thought that she was slow to make
+friends—and slow to lose them.</p>
+
+<p>Berse said that he was pleased to hear
+that, and would have given her a kiss; but
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span>she wouldn’t allow that, and told him that
+she didn’t like kissing. He took the rebuff
+with good humour, and soon afterwards
+rode away.</p>
+
+<p>Whatever Stangerd may have thought
+about Berse and his behaviour, nothing was
+said to her, and she did nothing towards
+seeing Cormac. But it is certain that he
+was seldom out of her head. She was still
+deeply offended, and would have shown
+him that she was, very plainly, if he had
+come to see her. But at the bottom of
+her heart she had a warm conviction of his
+love, and of her own. Her nature was
+slow to move, but she had spoken the truth
+when she told Berse that she was steadfast.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>Berse made his preparations quickly, and
+was ready to go back to Tongue in eight
+days. He set out with a party of some
+fifteen men—good men all, and well armed.
+Thord Arndisson of Mull was one of them,
+and Wige was another. Wige was a man
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span>who had dealings with unseen powers, and
+was said to be mighty in the dark. Some
+people deemed that he was a werwolf. Berse
+would not have gone without him on any
+account; and before he went he told
+him that Cormac might give trouble. Wige
+thought that he could cope with Cormac.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, yes,” said Berse, “and so can I;
+but Thorkel, look you, is a rare coward,
+and although I have sworn to take the
+venture on myself, yet he can’t rest in his
+bed for thinking of what they may do at
+Melstead. Now I want to keep this quiet
+until it’s all over, and she is mine. Then
+Cormac may do what he will, for then he
+will work in Sowerby, and not there.”</p>
+
+<p>Wige said, “Enough, I’ll see to it.”</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>They got to Tongue towards evening,
+and then Stangerd was told what was about
+to befall her. Berse told her himself.</p>
+
+<p>She showed flame-red, and gave him a stare
+for answer. Her eyes were like the flower of flax.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span>“Was this in your mind a week ago,”
+she said, “when you spoke to me of your
+friendship?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, it was,” said Berse.</p>
+
+<p>“You use a strange way,” said she, “to
+win my friendship. I will tell you this,
+that it is not to be captured by a trick, as
+you take a hare, nor by a spear. Use that
+with a salmon, but not with a girl.”</p>
+
+<p>Berse looked rather foolish. He had not
+thought the thing out properly. “Well,”
+he said, “you shan’t repent it. I’ll use
+you well. You will be mistress of a good
+house—and you will have no bad looks
+from me.”</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd turned away her face, not
+choosing that he should see her tears.
+She was taking this badly, but her mind
+was full of shifts and schemes how she could
+let Cormac know what was being done with
+her. Berse had hold of her hand by this
+time, and was trying to coax her.</p>
+
+<p>“Look now, Stangerd,” he said, “it is
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span>not very pleasant for you here these days.
+The neighbourhood will talk about a girl
+that has been jilted on her wedding-day,
+and your father don’t like that, nor your
+brother either. It is putting a slight upon
+the house, don’t you see? Now, I’m a man
+well known in my own country for a ready
+hand, and there won’t be things said about
+me which you or I won’t care to hear. At
+least, they won’t be said twice. Do your
+best to make a friend of me, and remember
+that a girl has to let her father be the judge
+of what’s to be done with her. I am older
+than you are—that’s certain—but see what
+experience I’ve had. Now my first wife
+was a woman called Finna, of great family
+and riches; and she was a beauty, too.
+They called her Finna the Fair. I don’t
+say that she was your match in that
+respect—but she was very well indeed, I
+can assure you. Now that woman got to be
+very fond of me before she died. She used
+to say there was no one like me for wheedling.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span>Now you give me a fair field, and you shall
+see. I know what can be said for that
+Cormac of yours—a fine, bold way with him,
+I don’t doubt, and when the mood was on
+him I can understand that no girl could
+resist him. But what about his black
+moods, my dear? How did you find him
+then? Scowling, glooming; not a word
+to say for himself. That don’t make for a
+happy homestead—no, no! Now there’s
+this to say for old Battle-Berse, that in peace
+or war no man has ever seen him out of
+temper. Still less any woman. Always
+ready with his crooked smile and lifted eyebrow—full
+of his quips and crankums—always
+ready to kiss and cuddle; with a
+knee would seat half a dozen of you at
+once—and all yours, Stangerd, when you
+want it. Try me, my dear,—and if you
+want Cormac after a year in Sowerby, why,
+you shall have him, for me. That’s a queer
+way of wooing a wife, but it’s Berse’s way, and
+not a bad one. Now, what do you say?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span>He was an insinuating man. His arm
+was round her waist by now, and before she
+lifted her head up his good-natured face
+was close to hers; and when she did look
+at him, he kissed her.</p>
+
+<p>It was too late to be angry; but of course
+she didn’t like it. “If it must be,” she
+said, “it must be; but spare me your
+kisses.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, no,” he said. “They are part of the
+bargain.”</p>
+
+<p>“They are not, then,” said she, “until
+the bargain’s done”—and she went away.</p>
+
+<p>The hall was very full that night, and
+she had to serve them all; but she was
+desperate to find a way of reaching Cormac.
+Presently there is a call for more drink, and
+she sends Narve out to fill the pitchers, and
+goes out to meet him half-way.</p>
+
+<p>She has a moment with him alone. She
+takes him by both shoulders and stares at
+him. He puts down his pitchers and gapes
+into her face.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span>“Oh, Narve, Narve, help me if you can,”
+she says.</p>
+
+<p>“That I will,” he says.</p>
+
+<p>She looks about her fearfully. “Tell
+Cormac—let him know to-night; to-morrow
+will be too late,” she says. He sees that
+she is shaking all over, and staring about
+as if she didn’t know what she was doing.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll go to him,” says Narve. “I’ll go
+to him to-night—after they are abed.”</p>
+
+<p>She is swaying about. “Ah,” she says,
+“catch me—I’m going to fall down!”</p>
+
+<p>She falls into his arms. He picks her
+up and takes her out of doors, and into the
+Bower by the women’s door. Then he goes
+back and picks up his pitchers.</p>
+
+<p>In the hall he tells a maid to go and look
+after her.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>It was late before they were all got to
+bed. Some of them were very drunk.
+Toothgnasher had to be carried. Berse
+had all his wits about him, and Wige the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span>wolf-man had more than ever he had in
+the day. Narve gave them an hour to get
+sound asleep and then slipped down the
+hall and unfastened the door without noise.</p>
+
+<p>It was broad moonlight, and a river of
+black shade ran before every wall; but he
+was well over them all, and had forded the
+river before he knew he was being followed.
+He only knew it, indeed, by something
+which is beside sense; for when he looked
+back he couldn’t see a sign of a man. But
+he ran like a hare, did Narve, and was up
+the shoulder of the hill and speeding down
+the path through a little pine wood, when
+all of a sudden he felt a hand on his
+shoulder, and his heart jumped burning
+into his throat.</p>
+
+<p>His knees failed, and down he sank upon
+them. By his side, right over him as he
+found, was Wige, all silver-grey in the
+moonlight.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh! Mercy! What do you want with
+me?” he said.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span>Wige said nothing, but stood still above
+him with hollow, sightless eye-sockets. He
+was a very tall, thin man.</p>
+
+<p>Narve’s teeth were clattering together:
+it was a cold night. Suddenly Wige stretched
+out a long arm, pointing the way back to
+Tongue. Narve got upon his feet, and,
+watching the arm, began to edge along
+the way he was intended to go. He walked
+sideways that he might keep an eye upon
+the apparition; through the wood and up
+the wood he went, and got into the open.
+In the broad moonlight Wige looked shining
+like metal. Narve took to his heels and
+ran home as fast as he had come out, and
+Wige fleeted behind him with long, noiseless
+strides.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning it was Narve’s business
+to get out and see to the cattle in the byre.
+He was to drive them afield, and so he did.
+There was not a soul in sight, but a light
+mist covered the ground so that you could
+not see very far. He thought the chance a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span>good one to steal over the hills to Melstead,
+and took it. He made his way through
+brushwood and rocks, and was half-way up
+the fell when out of the mist there loomed
+before him a shape, tall and shadowy. The
+terrors of the night came back to him, but
+something else also; for Wige fell upon him
+with a ragged staff, and beat him about the
+shoulders and back. Again nothing was
+said, and again nothing was done towards
+the help of Stangerd. Narve saw her when
+he got home again, at the door of the Bower,
+with her hair all over her shoulders. It had
+been washed for the wedding, and she was
+drying it in the sun. He caught her eyes,
+and shook his head sadly. She turned away
+her face.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>But by noon she had recovered her composure,
+and, looking extremely handsome,
+she went through the ceremonies which
+married her to Battle-Berse. She made no
+difficulties and gave no trouble, but when
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span>it came to handfasting, Thorkel her father
+saw the ring on her finger which Cormac
+had put there, and told her to take it
+off. That she refused. “Never,” she said.
+“That stays where it is.” Toothgnasher
+grew rather rough. “We’ll soon see about
+that!” he said; but Berse stopped him.
+“Leave my wife alone,” he said. “The
+ring suits her very well—and she shall have
+plenty more for the other fingers when she
+wants them.”</p>
+
+<p>She was wedded by the afternoon, and
+the feast began and lasted all night, as the
+custom is. On the morning after the Sowerby
+people set off home. They rode by the
+shore, and they rode quietly, so that few
+should know what was going on. There
+was to be a boat ready for them on Ramfirth,
+by the landing of Thorveig the spae-wife.
+They would reach it by noon.</p>
+
+<p>Directly they were well on their road,
+Narve started off to run to Melstead.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIII<br>
+<small>CHASE</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">IN those days Cormac went about the
+work of the place; but he was a
+changed man. He was fallen very silent,
+and grown thin and grim-looking. You
+never heard his voice singing about the
+acres or up the hill-side. He did not
+care to swim or to fish. He never spoke
+about Stangerd, but neither Thorgils nor his
+mother supposed that she was out of his
+mind. And she never was, not for a few
+moments together; but yet he did not go
+near her, or even over the hills which would
+lead him into the dale where Tongue was.
+From the top of the ridge you could see
+Tongue lying snug in sycamore-trees with
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span>its fields orderly about it; but Cormac
+would never go there now. He could not
+have told you why that was; but he felt
+that he could not.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes he reasoned with himself
+about it—especially when he felt a great
+hunger for the sight of her, when his eyes
+ached for her. Then he thought—“No, I
+cannot go, for I might see her. Then it
+might begin all over again, and end as
+vainly—and I cannot go on like that.” He
+told himself it was certainly true that
+Stangerd was too beautiful for a man to
+marry; for what could any man do or enjoy
+which would be worthy of so high a possession?
+Lie in her bosom, mingle with her in love—but
+what were such things to compare with
+the thought of her, which was like the wildest
+music, to the knowledge of her, which made
+the heart beat and the eyes grow dim?
+The things which a man could do with the
+woman he loved were good enough to do
+with common women—the pleasure of love,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span>the getting of children: that was the end
+of common desire, and filled it. But with
+Stangerd, who made you faint at the wonder
+of her—with Stangerd, whose touch made
+you tremble—such things could not be, for
+they would tarnish the splendour of her,
+and serve you little. It is better to think
+of kissing Stangerd than to kiss her; it is
+better to dream of her bosom than to lie
+in it; for kisses cloy, but the mind of a
+man endures. With such false reasoning he
+had to be content, for he could not bring
+himself to go to her. Not once did it enter
+his head that he was doing her a wrong.
+It never occurred to him that she had given
+him her heart before she gave him her
+hand; that she was in great want of him
+as well as wounded in her self-esteem. He
+could not think of such things because he
+could never have believed that she loved him.
+He put her above mankind or womankind.
+He said, She is a Spirit who may be loved,
+but cannot love. Had he loved her less,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span>he would have had more joy of her, and
+she of him. That’s the truth of it.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>Now that morning he was at work below
+the house, and Thorgils with him, and some
+others. They were building a wall of
+turves. Thorgils was piling the turves, and
+Cormac was beating them in with a mallet.
+They both looked up when they heard steps
+on the fell, and watched the man coming
+over the stepping-stones of the river. Then
+Cormac turned to his work, and worked hard.</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils said, “I think it is Narve from
+Tongue.” Cormac said nothing to that.
+All except himself were watching the man.
+Thorgils said again, “He has weapons,
+and carries a shield. What can he be
+about?”</p>
+
+<p>Toste said, “He looks back. His weapons
+are for somebody behind him. What is
+the matter with him?”</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils said, “He is coming here. We
+shall know pretty soon.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span>Cormac took no notice, but went on
+working at his wall.</p>
+
+<p>Then Narve came up, stepping warily,
+with his eyes every way at once, as if every
+wall-end or tussock of rushes might hold
+an ambush.</p>
+
+<p>“How now, Narve?” Toste called out
+to him. “What do you fear, man? And
+whom are you after, with your war-gear?”</p>
+
+<p>Narve puffed out his cheeks, staring about
+him. “Pheugh!” he said. “There’s need
+of war-gear in these days—and in the nights
+it’s worse still. When silver-grey men rise
+up suddenly in thickets, and chase you
+on silent feet——”</p>
+
+<p>“What news, Narve?” said Thorgils,
+who wanted to know it. “What news do
+you bring from Tongue?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m late with my news,” said Narve;
+“but I came as soon as I could. We were
+busy last night.”</p>
+
+<p>“Were you so?” Thorgils asked him.
+“Had you guests with you?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span>“Guests,” said Narve. “Ah, we had
+guests. One was a werwolf.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac at this point straightened himself.
+“Who were your guests?” he asked.</p>
+
+<p>Narve said: “There was Battle-Berse
+from Sowerby, and seventeen with him—of
+whom one was just what I told your
+brother.”</p>
+
+<p>But Cormac held him with his eye, and
+would not leave him. “And what was
+Battle-Berse doing at Tongue?”</p>
+
+<p>“He was sitting at his wedding,” said
+Narve.</p>
+
+<p>Everybody was now very still.</p>
+
+<p>“And who was the bride?” Cormac
+asked that in a quiet way.</p>
+
+<p>“The bride was Stangerd, Thorkel’s
+daughter,” Narve said.</p>
+
+<p>Silence was upon all, and Cormac looked
+slowly about him, from face to face. He
+was grey and pinched, but as he looked
+about, and saw in every man’s face what
+could not be hid, rage gathered in him.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span>He rolled his eyes about, and suddenly
+whirled his mallet round his head and struck
+with all his might at Narve. Narve gave
+a loud cry, and put up his shield. That
+may have saved his life, but he fell back
+with a clatter, and lay still, just as if he
+was dead.</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils said: “That was a shame,
+brother. The marriage was not of his
+making.”</p>
+
+<p>“Bah!” said Cormac. “He croaks like
+a raven. Let him lie!”</p>
+
+<p>But Thorgils fetched water from a spring
+and brought the man round. Narve sat up
+and held his head.</p>
+
+<p>“That was too bad,” he said. “I did
+my best to come here yesterday—and this
+is how you serve me.”</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils asked him then, “Was this
+marriage done to Stangerd against her
+will?”</p>
+
+<p>Narve said, “It was then. She was in
+a sad way about it, fluttering and holding
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span>her heart. She got me aside and begged
+me to run to fetch Cormac; and so I set
+out to do, in the middle of the night; but
+Wige the wolf-man rose up silvery in the
+wood and scared me back. And yet again
+before sunrise I started to come over the
+hill—and there in the mist was Wige, a
+terrible man.”</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils looked at Cormac, who was
+leaning on his wall but listening.</p>
+
+<p>Narve went on complaining: “It is very
+well for Cormac to play the lord of lands,
+and choose his time to have women come
+to him. A fine girl like that! And so to
+treat a man that runs, at peril of his life,
+to tell him bad news! He will find old
+Berse of another mettle, I’m thinking, and
+then maybe he’ll look over his shoulder
+for help and backing, and wish he had
+served me differently.”</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils wanted to know about the
+marriage-bargain, and Narve told him what
+he knew. The risk was all to be Berse’s.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span>He had promised to keep harmless Stangerd’s
+kindred.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>When Narve had taken himself off,
+Cormac threw down his mallet, and turned
+to go down to the house. Thorgils watched
+him, let him go, and presently followed
+him, running, caught him up and put his
+hand on his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>“Whither now?” he said.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac showed him the profile of a stern
+face. “I am going after her,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils was very sorry for him. “Ah,
+but that will do you no good,” he said.
+“It’s too late.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, no,” said Cormac, “it’s not too late—for
+one thing or another.”</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils knew what he meant. “Well,”
+he said, “I am sure Berse will be home
+before you can fetch at him—but I shall
+go with you.”</p>
+
+<p>“I shall wait for nobody,” Cormac said,
+and went into the house. Thorgils turned
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span>back to summon all hands, and before he
+had got them together, he saw Cormac
+spur out of the yard on his black horse.
+He threw up his head and flacked his hands
+against his thighs in despair; but he
+followed him with something like a dozen
+men, and by hard riding managed to keep
+him in sight.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>Cormac came down to the ferry where
+Thorveig’s house was. There was a fine
+wind blowing, but all the boats were beached.
+Not one was in the water, and nobody about
+the place. Well out in the firth he saw a
+crowded boat—men and horses packed
+together. The gleam of white told him all.
+Stangerd was there in a white dress—she
+seldom wore anything else. They were too
+far off for him to make her out; but he
+saw that she sat in the fore-part of the boat,
+and thought that she must see him. He
+held up his hand that held the axe. His
+heart beat high. He fancied that she lifted
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span>hers. He was no longer under the curse.
+All his thoughts of her were purely good.
+He should see her soon. When he turned
+about he saw Thorveig standing in the door
+of her house, the tall, thin-haired woman
+with her faded, all-seeing, unseeing eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“What do you want here, Cormac?”
+she said. “I have no more sons for you
+to slay.”</p>
+
+<p>“I want a boat to cross the water,” he
+said. “You shall be well paid for it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, you’ll find no boats here,” she
+said. “They are all high and dry, as you
+see. They wait for the shipwright. They
+are all unseaworthy.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac was looking at the boats. One
+after another he entered and eyed over.
+There was a hole in every one of them.</p>
+
+<p>“You hag!” he said. “This is your
+doing. You have been at your tricks.”</p>
+
+<p>She frowned at him, but lifted her head
+high and seemed to look down at him
+with scorn.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span>“And what is it to you what I please
+to do with my own? Did you not so with
+yours when you bade me off your land?
+And why may you be wanting a boat on
+this water, which is none of yours?” And
+then she came closer to him and pried into
+his face. “And why should I help you at
+all, Cormac?” she asked him.</p>
+
+<p>But Cormac had forgotten her and her
+boats and was looking over the blue and
+windy water. The boat was more than
+half-way across. Again he flung up his hand
+with the axe; and when again he saw
+the white sleeve lift he pressed his
+knees into his horse as if he would ride
+into the water and swim after Stangerd.
+But just then Thorgils and his company
+rode up.</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils asked the spae-wife the same
+question—Could they have a boat?</p>
+
+<p>“Boats! Boats!” she cried. “Look at
+the boats. There’s not one sound one
+amongst them all.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span>“No, you old vixen!” Cormac said.
+“That’s because you have stove them in.”</p>
+
+<p>He picked out one of them, nevertheless.
+“I’ll try this,” he said to Thorgils. “We
+can caulk her with mud and rushes.”</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils shook his head. “Better not—she’ll
+sink you. It will be quicker in the
+end to ride round by the head of the firth.”</p>
+
+<p>“Go as you will,” said Cormac. “I
+shall take this boat.”</p>
+
+<p>“You shall pay for her—you shall pay!”
+cried the spae-wife.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac was on his feet, tugging at the
+boat.</p>
+
+<p>“Give her the hire, and let me be out,”
+he said.</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils bargained with her for half a
+mark, and Cormac led his horse into the
+boat, when they had caulked her with rope
+and pitch. Toste went with him to help
+him row. They had got about a bowshot
+out when the old tub began to fill. Almost
+before those on shore understood as much,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span>the water was over the gunwale, and men
+and horses were in the water.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, you old b——h!” Thorgils cried
+to the woman. “You would drown my
+brother, would you?”</p>
+
+<p>She had her lips locked together, and cold
+fire in her eyes. She nodded her head
+sharply three or four times. She was a
+great hater.</p>
+
+<p>But the men and the horses came ashore;
+and Cormac owned that there was nothing
+for it but to go round the firth-head. That
+put a good fifteen miles on to the journey,
+and would make him too late. He had
+lost her!</p>
+
+<p>He said nothing about it, and was surprised
+himself to find that he had no wish to kill
+anybody. Before he could reach Sowerby
+Stangerd would be lost to him. He found
+that he loved her the more for the thought
+of that. He had not—at least, not at this
+moment of first certainty—the jealous rage
+of the lover who knows that his mistress is
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span>possessed by another man. The thought of
+her beauty mounted his head like wine.</p>
+
+<p>The whole troop of them rode round the
+head of Ramfirth. The first house they
+came to was Mull, where a man called Wale
+lived. He was a friend of Berse’s, and
+had been at the wedding.</p>
+
+<p>This Wale was standing at the gate of
+his court, waiting for them. Greetings
+passed.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac said, “Shall we find Berse up
+at his house, think you? We are come
+to deal with him?”</p>
+
+<p>Wale answered him: “You will find him
+there, sure enough. It is two hours’ riding.
+And he has been home this two hours or
+more. There’s a great company there
+with him. I think you will do little good.”</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils looked at Cormac, being himself
+sure they were come on a fool’s errand.
+But Cormac was thinking of other things.
+So then Thorgils said, “Brother, what say
+you? To my mind it is foolishness, going
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span>on. We can do nothing against them.
+They have the law, they have the lady, and
+they will be more than we.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac then gave him a glance: it was
+no more than a glance. “Do as you will,”
+he said. “I shall go on, for I must see
+Stangerd.”</p>
+
+<p>“You will never see her,” said Thorgils.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac made no reply, but still looked
+up the shadowed valley whither they had
+taken her.</p>
+
+<p>Presently he seemed to come to himself,
+and gathered up the reins, and moved up
+the path at a walk. Thorgils looked about
+at the faces of his friends. “What are
+we to do with him?” he said to Toste.
+“We had better follow. No one knows
+what may befall him.”</p>
+
+<p>Toste tossed his head up. “A bad
+business to my thinking—but you are right.”</p>
+
+<p>So they went up the road after Cormac,
+and all together into the dark valley among
+the rocks, where Berse had his homestead
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span>well fortified against the weather and his
+enemies. As they rounded the tongue of
+land which made a natural outpost to the
+place, they saw that they were expected.
+Berse stood there in war-gear, surrounded
+by his friends. There were twenty to thirty
+of them.</p>
+
+<p>The party from Melstead drew rein, and
+each side looked at the other for a while.
+Then Cormac left his company and cantered
+forward alone. Seeing that, Berse, who was
+on foot, came out to meet him, but not a
+long way.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIV<br>
+<small>PARLEY</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">CORMAC was hot and fierce. “Berse,”
+he said, “you have behaved falsely
+to me, who never did you any harm.”</p>
+
+<p>“Not a bit of it,” said Berse.</p>
+
+<p>“But I say that you have. Stangerd
+was my plighted wife, and all the country
+knew it. This wedding was done without
+my knowledge and against her will—and
+you have betrayed us.”</p>
+
+<p>Berse looked away from him into the
+sky. There was a queer light in his eyes,
+as if he saw strange birds flying, and was
+more amused than curious about them.</p>
+
+<p>“All this,” he said, “is very wild talk;
+but I understand you. You had better
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span>tell me what it is you want—seeing the
+deed is done.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac mastered himself, and spoke as
+coolly as he could, but in a carrying voice.
+“I am come to have Stangerd back again,
+and ransom of the affront.”</p>
+
+<p>Berse looked now at his friend Thord
+Arndisson, who was by him. He nodded
+his head two or three times, and had the
+same gleam of amusement in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“Fine talk,” he said, “brave talk,
+but——” He gave up the attempt. Whatever
+was the use of talking like this?</p>
+
+<p>Thord Arndisson spoke.</p>
+
+<p>“Cormac,” said he, “when you are
+cooler you will see that you are asking outlandish
+things. Now let us be reasonable.
+Berse here acted as his right was, knowing
+nothing of you or your affairs. What he
+was told, that he understood; and it was
+that a day was fixed for the marriage, and
+that you did not come, but instead of you,
+your brother Thorgils came with the news
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span>that he could not find you; and ‘Maybe
+he is abroad,’ he said. Now I offer you
+terms on behalf of Berse; but certainly
+Berse keeps the woman.”</p>
+
+<p>Berse said: “Cormac, there is no question
+of Stangerd going back with you. That
+I shall never agree to, nor will she, as you
+will find if you ask her. Instead of her,
+I will give you my sister Hilda for a wife.
+She is here in the house, and you can go
+and look at her. But if you get her, you
+will be very well married, in my opinion.
+I can’t say fairer for you than that.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac stood frowning and biting his
+cheek. He was looking at the house for
+any sign of Stangerd, but the door was
+shut, and there was nothing to see.</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils thought very well of Berse’s
+offer. “It is very fair,” he said, and then
+to Cormac: “Let us talk about this,
+Cormac.”</p>
+
+<p>Just then a woman called out from the
+throng behind the two brothers: “Do no
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span>such folly, Thorgils.” And then she stepped
+out from the company. She was a woman
+called Thordis, who lived at Spaewife’s Fell.</p>
+
+<p>“Out on it,” she said sharply. “Don’t
+you be trickt by them. That woman is
+a fool; and you expect a fine man like
+Cormac to take to her? Madness, Cormac!”</p>
+
+<p>Thord Arndisson was much put out. “Get
+back with you, witch-wife.” He turned
+to Cormac, saying: “I tell you that Hilda
+will turn out a wonder of the world.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac said, “She may burn the world
+out for aught I care. She will never
+burn me.”</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils would have urged him again;
+but now Cormac could hear no voice but
+his own. He confronted Berse.</p>
+
+<p>“Berse,” he said, “there is but one thing
+to do. I challenge you to wager-of-battle
+in fifteen days at the Leet-holm.”</p>
+
+<p>At this place Berse had fought many
+and many a wager out.</p>
+
+<p>“I know the way to Leet-holm very well,”
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span>he said; “better than you do, I expect.
+I will be there, don’t doubt me; but I take
+leave to tell you that there is less joy for
+you at Leet-holm than there may be here
+in Sowerby if you choose for it.”</p>
+
+<p>“But I don’t choose,” said Cormac, and
+made to go by him towards the house.
+Thord Arndisson went after him.</p>
+
+<p>“Where are you for?” he called out.
+Cormac stopped, and turned full round to
+face him and Berse.</p>
+
+<p>“I am going into Berse’s house, to see
+Stangerd. Are you for stopping me?”</p>
+
+<p>Thord said to Berse: “Do you hear
+that?”</p>
+
+<p>“I do,” said Berse.</p>
+
+<p>“Is he to go in?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why not?” said Berse.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac by this time was half-way to
+the house. Berse’s men made a road for
+him. He went to the door, shook the latch,
+and gave a kick with his foot which sent
+it flying open.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span>The great hall was set for a feast, and the
+women were still about the tables. Hilda was
+there, and Stanvor also; but not Stangerd.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac asked for her. Hilda looked
+doubtfully about her; but Stanvor was
+not at all afraid.</p>
+
+<p>“You will find her in the Bower,” she
+said, and went on with her business.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>Cormac went into the Bower. Stangerd
+rose up. She wore her golden wreath, and
+was very quiet. She said nothing, and
+they looked at each other for a while.</p>
+
+<p>Then Cormac went to her and put a hand
+on either shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>“You could not wait for me, my dear,—and
+now I am too late.”</p>
+
+<p>She would not look up. “I should have
+waited if I could,” she said; “but you
+kept me too long.”</p>
+
+<p>He said, “Had I kept you a thousand
+years, that would not have cooled my love.
+You told me that you were steadfast.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span>“So I am,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>“You should have come with me when
+I called you,” he said. “I told you long
+ago how I would have wedded you. You
+should have come into my arms then and
+there, and I would have carried you away—but
+you have chosen differently.”</p>
+
+<p>She said: “I have not chosen at all.”</p>
+
+<p>“No more reproaches,” said Cormac,
+“between you and me. I shall never give
+you up. You are my love. But I will
+do you no wrong.”</p>
+
+<p>She was more moved than he was, though
+she stayed very quiet under his hands.
+She did not raise her head to look at him,
+nor did he ask her. For a little time longer
+they remained standing so together; and
+then he shook his head suddenly and left
+her.</p>
+
+<p>Presently Stanvor Slimlegs came into the
+Bower and moved about Stangerd where
+she still stood in mid-floor.</p>
+
+<p>Then Stanvor came near her, and said:
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span>“Listen, Stangerd. I love Berse, and shall
+not leave him unless you force me.”</p>
+
+<p>“I shall not force you,” said Stangerd.</p>
+
+<p>“He does not care for me in the way
+of marriage, or he could have married me
+when he chose. And you care little for
+him, I fancy. The world is a strange one
+for women. I would give all I have to
+be where you will be to-night, and you, I
+suppose, would give the same for my place.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, I would not,” said Stangerd. “I
+would keep what I have if I could.”</p>
+
+<p>“You would keep it for Cormac?”</p>
+
+<p>But Stangerd said, “Cormac will never
+have anything of mine.”</p>
+
+<p>They stood near together, these two,
+looking out of window. Words seemed
+upon the edges of their lips, which might
+have been winged if they had gained
+utterance. Stanvor always looked like that,
+as if she was full of sayings which she could
+not frame into speech. She seemed to be
+worn thin and fine with the burden of what
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span>she wanted to declare. Stangerd was silent
+also. She was deeply despondent, and had
+not, perhaps, any desire to unbosom herself.
+They stood so for quite a long time, looking
+out at the dusk gathering about the folds
+of the mountain.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XV<br>
+<small>CORMAC MAKES READY</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">CORMAC made this song, and sang
+it to himself as he wandered the
+fell:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">Berse, you have dared impossibly,</div>
+<div class="verse">Taking what I have feared to take—</div>
+<div class="verse">Looking where I have feared to see,</div>
+<div class="verse">Dipping where none may dip and be</div>
+<div class="verse">Still man, within the lonely lake.</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">To have scaled the awful mountain pass,</div>
+<div class="verse">To have seen unblencht the untrod snows,</div>
+<div class="verse">Affronting with your front of brass</div>
+<div class="verse">The heart of the everlasting rose—</div>
+<div class="verse">You have dared enough and shall give o’er</div>
+<div class="verse">Your daring. You have dared so much:</div>
+<div class="verse">Let it suffice. No more, no more.</div>
+<div class="verse">Yet seeing by that desperate touch<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span></div>
+<div class="verse">There is come glory on your brow;</div>
+<div class="verse">And to your name the pride is such</div>
+<div class="verse">The man who bears it he must die,</div>
+<div class="verse">I tell you, Berse, the time is now</div>
+<div class="verse">Before you’ve time to blur and dull it</div>
+<div class="verse">With your gross brain and teeming eye</div>
+<div class="verse">And tongue, when righteous hand shall clutch</div>
+<div class="verse">Your throat and take you by the gullet</div>
+<div class="verse">And wrench the life out, and the lie</div>
+<div class="verse">You make of it—and here’s the sign—</div>
+<div class="verse">The clutching hand writes this: ’tis mine.</div>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>He got great comfort out of these lines,
+but his brother looked askance at them,
+and his mother gave him other counsel.</p>
+
+<p>“My son,” she said, “you have to confront
+a champion in a play which he knows
+by heart. Have you thought how you shall
+go to work?”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac said that he had.</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” said his brother, “have you
+considered with what weapon you will meet
+Berse?”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac said, “I will have a heavy axe,
+with a long handle.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span>“And he,” said Dalla, “will have Whiting,
+which is a sharp sword, and a charmed
+sword. It has a healing-stone in its hilt.
+It would turn any axe you could get.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac was put out. “I would trust
+my fingers to reach his windpipe,” he said,
+“and after that let Whiting bite the grass.”</p>
+
+<p>“All this is foolishness,” his mother
+replied. “I am the widow of your father,
+who was a fighting man, and know what I
+am talking about. Now do you go to see
+Skeggi of Reykir and ask him for Shavening.
+That is a sword of renown.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know it is,” said Cormac.</p>
+
+<p>He thought after a while that he would go.</p>
+
+<p>Skeggi was an elderly man who lived at
+Reykir, across the Mid-river. Melstead
+looked upon Reykir. Skeggi was also a
+heavy, ruminating man who, instead of
+answering a direct question directly, used
+to say, “Let us see,” or “Let us think
+about it.” That was just what he said
+when Cormac came for the loan of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span>Shavening. He was threshing corn in his
+barn, and, having heard what Cormac
+wanted, said that they must think it over,
+and went on with his threshing. Cormac
+contained himself as well as he could, which
+was very little indeed; but Skeggi was
+not to be moved by finger-nail biting or
+ramping up and down the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>Then, when he had done all he had a
+mind to do, he hung up his flail, and came
+to Cormac.</p>
+
+<p>“My son,” he said, “it would never do.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you mean,” said Cormac, “that you
+will not lend me your sword?”</p>
+
+<p>“My meaning,” said Skeggi, “is like this.
+You two would not get on together. That
+is what I mean.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t understand that,” Cormac told
+him.</p>
+
+<p>“Shavening, my sword,” said Skeggi, “is
+what we call a slow sword. It is a deliberate
+sword, a sword of queer temper. Now you,
+too, are of a queer temper, I can see; but
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span>the queerness of your temper is not the
+queerness of Shavening’s temper. Why, you
+would be for slicing and hewing before
+Shavening had made up his mind to quit
+the sheath. Tush! no good could come
+of it.” He shook his head, and felt the
+beard on his chin. He raised his head and
+stroked up the beard of his neck.</p>
+
+<p>“My question, Skeggi, is, Will you or
+will you not lend me your sword?”</p>
+
+<p>Skeggi looked at him, suspending his work
+at his beard.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s a question!” he said. “We
+must think about that.”</p>
+
+<p>“Pish!” said Cormac, and went away.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>He came home in a red flurry of rage, and
+it was long before his mother could get a
+word out of him. Then she said, “You
+go to work madly, my son. Skeggi will
+lend you Shavening, but not that gait.
+You must take a man as a man takes you.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span>If he is slow-minded, you must keep yourself
+slow. He will lend you Shavening.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac frowned. “It will be a fine thing
+for a man who is to meet a champion at the
+Holm that he owes his weapon to his mother.”</p>
+
+<p>Dalla said, “He owes it to his mother
+that he is able to go there at all.”</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>After a few days she spoke to her unruly
+son again. “Go and see Skeggi,” she said,
+“and treat him fairly. He will lend you
+his sword.”</p>
+
+<p>So Cormac rides over to Reykir a second
+time.</p>
+
+<p>Skeggi was ready for him. He brought
+the sword out from under his bedding; it
+was wrapped up in a sheepskin. He unfolded
+the fleece and laid Shavening on his
+knees. Shavening had a long handle with a
+short guard. Attached to the handle by
+two leather thongs was a purse of leather
+sewn up. “This purse,” he said, “goes
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span>about with Shavening everywhere. Now,
+you must leave that alone.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac, frowning at the sword, nodded
+his head shortly.</p>
+
+<p>Skeggi went on talking. “Now these are
+the matters to be known in your conduct
+of Shavening. First, the sun must not shine
+upon either hilt or guard: see first of all to
+that, and keep him in his sheepskin until
+you want him. Next, you shall not wear
+him until the morning of the day when
+you have use for him—not, indeed, until
+you are to ride out for the place of your
+battle. And when you get to your battle-place,
+this is what you shall do. You shall
+take yourself apart from all men, and draw
+Shavening slowly from his scabbard until
+you have him fair in the light. Stretch
+him out his length, hold him up, and blow
+upon him. Then watch him. A little snake
+will come forth from under the guard, with
+a flat head. He will come out half-way
+and look at you. Now you must hold
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span>Shavening steady, and in such a way that
+the snake can go back under the hilt. Do
+you follow me in every point?”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac was frowning himself black. “I
+hear you,” he said, “and I understand
+you. But let me tell you that those are
+tricks for a wizard.”</p>
+
+<p>Skeggi said, “It may be so; but you
+will either do as I tell you, or be sorry for
+it.” He wrapped Shavening again in his
+sheepskin and handed him over without
+another word.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac rode home.</p>
+
+<p>He thanked his mother for her help. “I
+was uncivil,” he said. “Without you I
+should never have got it.”</p>
+
+<p>“So you <i>have</i> got it?” she asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Here is the wonder-brand,” he said, and
+took it out of the sheepskin. Dalla felt it
+up and down with her hands.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac shook it, weighed it in his hand,
+and turned it about. Then he set his other
+hand to it and tried to draw it; but it would
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span>not budge. “A plague take it,” he said.
+“It works too stiff for me. It works as
+stiff as its master.”</p>
+
+<p>“Take care,” said Dalla; “you are too
+rough with him.”</p>
+
+<p>But Cormac was angry, and the more he
+tugged the angrier he got.</p>
+
+<p>“A blight on wizardry!” he cried. He
+put his foot on the scabbard and tugged
+at the hilt. The purse got in his way:
+he tore it off. Then he pulled with all his
+might. Shavening screamed, but would not
+come out. Cormac flung it on the floor,
+and went out of the house. Dalla picked it
+up, mended the purse-strings, and wrapped
+Shavening again in his fleece.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac took no further heed of it.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVI<br>
+<small>BATTLE</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">SO the day came round for the battle,
+and Cormac with his brother and
+his men rode out to the Holm which
+is called Leet-holm, a day’s and a night’s
+journey for the party; but not so far for
+Berse and his party.</p>
+
+<p>Berse went off before it was light, and left
+Stangerd in bed. She would have nothing
+to say to him about it, but he kept his temper.
+Young Stanvor Slimlegs was astir to give
+him a horn of hot drink and to see him
+ride away. She served him while he was
+fastening up his fighting-gear; she brought
+him Whiting and buckled it upon him;
+then his cloak to go over all. There was no
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span>speech between them till just the end, when
+Berse put his hand on her shoulder and
+said: “Good girl!”</p>
+
+<p>Stanvor then said, “Good luck to your
+fighting!”</p>
+
+<p>Berse pulled a wry face, and jerked back
+his head on his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>“That is much more than <i>she</i> says.”</p>
+
+<p>Stanvor replied, “She does not know
+her own fortune. But she will know it.”</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd, lying in her bed with her hands
+between her knees, heard them talking.
+She ground her teeth together and listened.
+There was no more said. “Now they are
+kissing,” she thought.</p>
+
+<p>But it was not so. Berse left the house
+without more ado and rode away down
+the valley, neither speaking to Stanvor any
+more, nor looking at her.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>Leet-holm on Whamfirth is a flat meadow
+beside the river. The fells stand all round
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span>about, so that you scarcely see where is
+the road to the sea. It is hard ground at
+most times of the year, and a very good
+battle-ground.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac and his men were first to be there;
+he was in a bad temper, and had done, so
+far, none of the things he had been told
+to do. He had girt himself with Shavening
+outside his clothes, so that the sun had shone
+upon the hilt from its first rising. And he
+had taken off and left behind him the purse
+which Skeggi said was to be left in place.
+He was, in fact, most perverse.</p>
+
+<p>When the two parties were within hail,
+Berse rode forward and saluted Cormac’s
+company.</p>
+
+<p>“Let me have a word with you, my
+friends,” he said pleasantly, “and most of
+all with you, Cormac.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac, scowling, said, “We are not
+come to have words with you.”</p>
+
+<p>“But you shall have them, whether or
+no,” said Berse; “and I have this to say.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span>You are a young man and I am not; you
+have fought little and I have fought much.
+You have challenged me to wager-of-battle,
+which is a tricky game wherein neither
+rage, nor spleen, nor youth, nor muscle will
+help you so much as a cool head and a
+knowledge of the game. These have I.
+Now, if you will, the battle shall be changed
+to a fighting-match. That is, a bout where
+there are no rules but the rules of nature.
+Wild cats can play that game, and moorcocks
+know it well. Take it as you will:
+I mean fairly.”</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils said, “Nothing could be more
+honourably spoken,” and all his friends
+agreed among each other that he was
+right.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac would not accept of it. He shook
+off Thorgils and moved apart.</p>
+
+<p>“I will abide by the challenge,” he said.
+“I will face you in any way, and match
+myself with you in everything. If you
+know the rules, I will learn them.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span>Berse shrugged his shoulder. “Be it so.
+I have done my best for you.”</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>Then they prepared the ground according
+to the laws of wager-of-battle. They
+stretched an ox-hide on the ground and
+pegged it out with hazel-wands. Upon this
+they set the champions facing each other;
+and then the shield-bearers stood up. In
+wager-of-battle either man has a shield-bearer,
+who defends him with three shields
+in turn. If these are cloven without a
+scratch given or received, the men fight
+without shields, save the targets they carry
+for themselves, until blood falls upon the
+hide or one man is driven off it.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>Now Cormac forgot all the rest of Skeggi’s
+instructions. He did not withdraw himself
+when he unbuckled Shavening, and instead
+of unsheathing him slowly he tried to get
+him out with a quick jerk. Shavening
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span>would not budge. Cormac, red and furious,
+took him by the point of the scabbard, set
+his feet upon the guards of the hilt and
+tore the scabbard off him by main force.
+Shavening screamed as he came out. The
+snake did not show himself at all, but instead
+a dull mist settled down upon the blade,
+and did not all clear off again, running before
+the strength of the sun; but some remained
+in blotches upon him.</p>
+
+<p>Berse said, “I know that sword of old.
+That’s not the way to treat him.” His
+little bright eyes were twinkling, and he
+twitched his cheek-bones incessantly. He
+took his stand upon the hide without any
+fuss, walking to it as if he knew the way
+very well—as indeed he did—talking as he
+went to his shield-bearer, and making jokes.
+Cormac was serious, and had nothing to
+say. He felt that all eyes were on him, to
+see where and how he failed in the laws of
+this battle. But he did not require to be
+shown where to stand. Thorgils was his
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span>shield-bearer, and the first blow was to
+Berse.</p>
+
+<p>Whiting seemed to cut leather and wattle
+like butter. He sliced through the rim and
+shore the shield in two halves, but did not
+touch Cormac, or drive him back. Then
+Cormac, in his turn, cut at Berse’s shield.
+Shavening would have worked more easily
+if he had not been so driven. But as it
+was, the shield was broken rather than cut,
+and Shavening required some force to be
+withdrawn. Berse blinked, and shook his
+head to see that. It was on the tip of his
+tongue to give advice—but he stopped
+himself in time.</p>
+
+<p>The three shields to a man, allowed by
+the laws, were broken, and then the
+champions faced each other with sword and
+targe. Berse was now warmed to his work,
+and the battle-joy shone like points of fire
+in his eyes. He meant business now, one
+could see. Cormac was very still, and rather
+grey in the face. He was the first to attack
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span>and Berse parried him, took a step backwards,
+which brought him to the edge of
+the hide, dipped sideways, ran in under
+cover of his round shield, and made a feint
+at Cormac’s left shoulder. Cormac stopped
+him there, and Berse swung Whiting round
+and brought him down like a squall to
+Cormac’s right. Cormac got Shavening up
+in time, and caught Whiting at the point
+where the ridge ends and the blade gets thin.
+Shavening sliced through Whiting and
+dispointed him. The point spun in the air
+like a coin and struck Cormac on the sword
+hand. It cut the knuckle to the bone,
+and the blood spurted. Men gave a cry,
+and then it was seen that Shavening had
+come down upon Berse’s target and got
+a jag in himself. Berse had given back
+to the edge of the hide, and Cormac was
+in the act to rush in upon him when
+Thorgils lifted his arm and prevented him.</p>
+
+<p>“Bloodshed,” he said. “The fight is
+done, brother.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span>Cormac glared at him, and next at
+Berse; but now the onlookers were between
+the champions. The fight was over, Cormac
+bleeding freely from the hand.</p>
+
+<p>Berse was wiping the sweat from his face.
+“I’m shorter in the wind than I was,”
+he said to his friends. “If Cormac were not
+in such a rage, he would have done better.
+As it is, he has done well.”</p>
+
+<p>“He’ll not be satisfied with this,” a man
+said.</p>
+
+<p>“He’ll have to pay the blood-money,”
+said Berse.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>Cormac was not at all satisfied. “Does
+he call that victory? A scratch from a
+broken sword-point? Can he do no better?
+Let him get a sword from his kindred and
+meet me again. I have one hand left.”
+He was talking wildly.</p>
+
+<p>Presently Berse pushed through the crowd
+and came to him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span>“I claim the ransom,” he said. “You
+did well, Cormac; but I bled you.”</p>
+
+<p>“You shall be paid,” said Cormac; “but
+this is not the end.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is, for me,” Berse said. “Now you
+have a nasty jag in the hand—no fault of
+yours, but pure misfortune—and you have
+far to ride. Now, will you come home
+with me and get it dressed there?
+Stangerd shall see to you. I promise you
+that.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac shook the blood from his hand.
+“Do you think that I will see my love in
+your house, and the bed wherein you lie?
+I would bleed to death before I saw it. Get
+you gone with your broken sword, and find
+you another. There is no end to the strife
+between us. You have stolen my love,
+and every hour that you spend with her is
+horrible to me. For every hour of it you
+shall pay me back.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are talking wildly,” said Berse.
+“But I see that you would take anything
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span>amiss. Even if she came to you now you
+would revile her for the deed. We had
+better part now; but I wish you well—and
+more sense.”</p>
+
+<p>So they parted.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVII<br>
+<small>BERSE GOES HOME</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap2">AT the door of his house stood Stanvor
+Slimlegs in a white gown, with the
+fire of welcome shining in her face.
+Berse chuckled to himself to see her there,
+and said to his friend Thord: “That’s a
+good little girl, mighty fond of me.”</p>
+
+<p>“So she is, then,” says Thord. “Anybody
+might see that.”</p>
+
+<p>Berse at first had no better comment
+than a grunt. “There’s one at home
+might see it and care no more than one
+fly cares for another that has his legs in
+the honey-pot.”</p>
+
+<p>“You married her against her will,”
+Thord told him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span>“I’ll get her good-will yet,” Berse said.
+“I’ve had everything I wanted out of the
+world so far, and I’m not going to be denied
+now.” He stopped there; then, just as
+they were in the court, he said, “She’s
+as cold as a fish. You might as well make
+love to a dead woman.”</p>
+
+<p>“If Stangerd is cold,” said Thord, “it
+is because she is banking her fire. The
+fire is there.”</p>
+
+<p>Stanvor did not move from the doorway,
+for she was shy, and always wary in what
+she showed. She was used to Berse’s plain
+way, and expected no more than she got.</p>
+
+<p>“One-and-thirty battles now,” she said as
+Berse came up.</p>
+
+<p>Berse suddenly laughed. “One-and-thirty
+battles, my pretty one!” and put his
+arms round her and kissed her mouth.
+She took that quietly, and freed herself
+from him without making a fuss. You notice—as
+Berse noticed—that she took his victory
+for granted.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span>He asked her, Where was Stangerd. She
+told him, In the Bower.</p>
+
+<p>“Does she not know we have come home?”</p>
+
+<p>“I think she does. I am sure she does,
+because I told her when I saw you coming
+round the shoulder.”</p>
+
+<p>Berse twinkled, looking at her. “You
+have a far sight, my child.”</p>
+
+<p>She made no answer to that, and moved
+away, because Stangerd had come into the
+hall, and stood looking at Berse and his
+company.</p>
+
+<p>She had a blue gown and a green scarf
+over one shoulder and half her bosom. Her
+eyes were watchful, and brighter blue than
+her gown; her colour was high, burning
+on her cheek-bones. Certainly she was the
+most lovely woman in Iceland. Berse’s
+courage rose to meet her.</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” she said, “have you killed
+Cormac?” She spoke sullenly, without
+curiosity or anxiety; but Berse was very
+gay and laughed at her.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span>“I have not, my dear. I am too old a
+hand for such folly as that. Now shall I
+tell you in Cormac’s way what I have
+done?”</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him steadily. “You shall,”
+she said, “if you can.”</p>
+
+<p>Berse did not lose heart. He lifted his
+sword Whiting as if it had been the backbone
+of a harp, and struck upon it with
+his fingers.</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first">“Listen all— The battle flame</div>
+<div class="verse">Flickered from the cloudy dark,</div>
+<div class="verse">Breathing slaughter; on he came,</div>
+<div class="verse">Stood within the withied hide;</div>
+<div class="verse">There the old war-dog stood stark.</div>
+<div class="verse">Shavening screamed, but Whiting met him:</div>
+<div class="verse">Whiting fell, but Shavening bit him—</div>
+<div class="verse">Took his nose off, flung it wide.</div>
+<div class="verse">Ill to see and ill to bide</div>
+<div class="verse">When the shard flew off and hit him—</div>
+<div class="verse">Red blood flowed—the law must hold.</div>
+<div class="verse">Yet the young man matcht the old.”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Stangerd, whose colour was very hot
+now, said, “That is bad poetry, if ever
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span>I heard it, but it shows you a generous
+man.”</p>
+
+<p>Berse laughed. “Sweetheart,” he said,
+“I should like to please you if I could. I
+tell you he made a good match. A fine
+fighter. A champion.”</p>
+
+<p>She said, “You do please me by such
+dealing.”</p>
+
+<p>He put his arm round her. “You have
+never said a kinder thing to me. You
+make me a generous man by treating me so.”</p>
+
+<p>Stanvor Slimlegs watched them from a
+corner of the room.</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd drew away, but not roughly.
+Her eyes were full of thought.</p>
+
+<p>Afterwards she and Stanvor served the
+men in the hall, and once, as she stood over
+Berse to pour into his horn, she put her
+hand on his shoulder and left it there for
+a while. Berse said nothing and did nothing
+except twitch his face and blink his eyes; but
+he did not stay very long in the hall. That
+night she was kinder to him than she had
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span>ever been since he had married her; and
+by and by he told her so.</p>
+
+<p>She sighed and turned away. “You are
+easily satisfied,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>Little Stanvor, lying awake, was full of
+thought. “He is a wonderful man to have
+brought her round. Now he will be happy.
+He can’t bear to have glum looks about
+him. He might have four women here
+instead of two. His heart is large enough
+for them all.”</p>
+
+<p>In the morning her sharp eyes saw confirmation.
+Stangerd was very sedate, but
+her eyes were not haggard; nor was she
+peevish. Berse was full of his jokes and
+mischievous tricks. He played with Stanvor
+and made Stangerd jealous. Then he made
+friends with Stangerd against her will. She
+would not look at him, but she listened to
+him, and in spite of herself laughed at what
+he whispered in her ear, and let him kiss her.
+There was no more talk of Cormac; and
+when Berse brought out Whiting from his
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span>scabbard and showed him to the two girls
+with his ragged square end where the point
+had been sliced off by Shavening, Stanvor,
+looking guardedly askance, saw that
+Stangerd’s eyes were very bright. She said
+nothing—but it was she herself who turned
+the grindstone when Berse repointed the
+blade.</p>
+
+<p>Then she began to do little offices for Berse,
+which Stanvor had always done before.
+She used to come to the door to wait for
+him, and find Stanvor there. After a few
+days of that, Stanvor gave up going there;
+but she watched for him out of the window
+of the hall. She fancied sometimes that
+Stangerd might really be jealous, but would
+be too proud to show it. That made her
+very careful. She told herself that she would
+be showing her love for Berse a very
+shabby thing if she stood in the way of
+what his heart was set upon. He was
+making progress with Stangerd, it was very
+clear. He used to discuss that with
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span>Stanvor whenever he found himself
+alone with her. He would say, “The
+proud girl laughed at me this morning.
+She has a kindness for me, you know,
+child.”</p>
+
+<p>Stanvor would say, “Be sure she has.
+I have noticed her.”</p>
+
+<p>Once Stanvor told him things which she
+had found out. “Stangerd was very restless
+because you were so late home,” she
+told him.</p>
+
+<p>“Was she indeed, child?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes. She couldn’t settle to anything.
+She asked me three times to tell her who
+would be at the horse-fighting, and afterwards
+at Thord’s house.”</p>
+
+<p>Berse twinkled, and rubbed his chin.
+“She thought there might be women
+there.”</p>
+
+<p>Stanvor did not answer at first. Presently
+she said, “She asked me if I thought
+there would be any girls there.”</p>
+
+<p>“And what did you say?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span>Stanvor opened her eyes wider. “I said
+there would not be any.”</p>
+
+<p>“Good!” said Berse. “I like her
+question, and I like your answer. You are
+a girl of gold.” He rubbed his hands
+together. “We are getting on—oh, yes, we
+are getting on. She’s a beauty—isn’t she
+now?”</p>
+
+<p>“I think she’s very beautiful,” Stanvor
+said.</p>
+
+<p>“So she is, then,” said Berse, then looked
+closely at Stanvor, and then stopped. She
+had turned her head away, but showed by
+no other sign that the talk was painful to
+her. Berse had very kind looks for the
+young girl, and served her with them very
+often.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>Cormac made no sign until the Spring,
+nor was the ransom paid. But when the
+weather opened and the Spring was come
+there was talk about the Thing at Thorsness
+where Berse would go and some of Cormac’s
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span>friends would certainly be. Berse made sure
+of being paid there.</p>
+
+<p>When the time came that Berse was to
+set out for the Thing, Stangerd wished to
+go with him; but he would not allow her.
+“No, no, my beauty,” he said. “The
+Thing is no place for women. It’s rough
+lodging there, and rough work is done.
+Besides that, you would meet your old
+flame there, and I shouldn’t like that now.”</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him steadily. “Is that
+what you are afraid of?”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know that I’m afraid of anything,”
+he said; “but you’ve taken a liking
+for me lately which I should be sorry to
+have disturbed.”</p>
+
+<p>She did not answer him directly. She
+was always slow to speak. Nobody but
+Cormac had ever got a confession out of her.
+She kept her eyes fixed towards the ground.
+“I should like to go with you,” was all
+she had to say.</p>
+
+<p>Berse’s face flickered. “It can’t be so,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span>my dear. I am sorry about it. But it
+would make trouble.”</p>
+
+<p>“No,” she said, “it would not. It would
+spare trouble.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll take all the trouble that comes to
+me about you,” Berse said. “I told your
+kindred as much and will be as good as
+my word. You are worth it.”</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him now. “I don’t often
+ask you to do a thing for me.”</p>
+
+<p>“My dear,” he said, “that is true. I
+wish you did.”</p>
+
+<p>“You won’t let me come with you?”
+She was very insistent. It was plain to
+Stanvor that she wanted to go, and why
+she wanted to go. It was plain, also, that
+Berse misunderstood her. To this last
+question of hers he shook his head. “That
+can’t be.”</p>
+
+<p>She turned away. “Have it as you will,”
+she said, and went away without another
+word. He thought that she would be
+sulky with him later on; but she was not.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span>She never opened her heart to him—that
+was not her way. Yet he felt that she
+was inclined to him, and said to himself
+as he went off to sleep: “This is the best
+of my battles—to have engaged with this
+stormy heart and to have quelled it.”</p>
+
+<p>When he was ready to go and came to
+bid her farewell, she clung to him. That
+touched him, and he stayed with her for
+a while.</p>
+
+<p>“Speak to me, Stangerd,” he said.
+“You are a strange girl to be so quiet when
+I am such a magpie.”</p>
+
+<p>“I can’t talk,” she said; “but you
+should have let me come. I had a reason.”</p>
+
+<p>“I knew that,” he answered. “Come,
+now, what was your reason?”</p>
+
+<p>She wouldn’t tell him for some time;
+but at last she said, “I could have shown
+that to Cormac which would have made
+him leave you alone.”</p>
+
+<p>He held her close. “My dear one,” he
+said, “you make me happy. Now understand
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span>that I can take care of myself very
+well, and that Cormac shall take no harm
+from me.” Then he kissed her, and she
+looked at him sadly.</p>
+
+<p>“You should have taken me with you,”
+she said again. “You will be sorry that
+you did not.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, so I shall, sweetheart,” he said
+with a laugh; “but I shall be the merrier
+for you when I come back.”</p>
+
+<p>So he went off to the Thing, without a
+good-bye for Stanvor, who watched him go
+from the window of the Bower.</p>
+
+<p>The two girls were very guarded with each
+other while Berse was away. They never
+once spoke of him.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVIII<br>
+<small>DOINGS AT THE THING</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">TO the Thing at Thorsness came all the
+West. When Berse came there with
+his friends he was late. Most of the
+booths were full, and he could not get his
+proper place in that of his chief, Anlaf
+Peacock of Herdholt. There was a great
+crowd. In the seat which Berse had always
+had, next to his friend Thord, there sat a
+large man, very broad-shouldered, covered
+with a bearskin. Over his head he had a
+hood made of the skin, which fell before
+his eyes and made a darkness. He had
+a black beard down to his breast. Between
+his knees was a long sword in a grey sheath
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span>of walrus hide, and both his hands were
+upon the hilt of it.</p>
+
+<p>Berse looked him over, and puzzled who
+he was.</p>
+
+<p>He asked his neighbour—“Tell me, who
+is our huge friend?”</p>
+
+<p>“Some call him Glum, some call him
+Grim. I don’t know what his real name
+is, but I am sure it is neither of those.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” said Berse, “we’ll have it out
+of him presently.”</p>
+
+<p>Men were jostling and crowding in the
+booth, all talking together, drinking and
+making jokes. Berse bided his time, and
+presently trod heavily on the foot of the
+covered man.</p>
+
+<p>He drew it in hastily. “Steady, there!”
+he said.</p>
+
+<p>Then Berse turned to look at him. “So
+you live—some part of you? I was
+thinking you disposed for burial, and was
+minded to pile stones over you.”</p>
+
+<p>“A cairn will be built, it is very like,”
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span>said the Stranger, “but the dead man is
+not known who shall sit in it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Now,” said Berse, “we will make some
+way towards knowing his name. You shall
+tell us yours, to begin with, whether Scrum,
+or Glum, or Bears’-Paws, or whatever it may
+be. And then you shall tell us why you
+choose to sit in the dark.”</p>
+
+<p>The Stranger pushed his hood back and
+showed his fierce face and black beard.
+He was very white-skinned, but his hair
+and eyes dark as thunder.</p>
+
+<p>“Stanhere is my name,” he said, “and
+I am of this country. I may have money
+of Cormac’s to pay over to you, or I may
+not.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oho! That’s it, then?” says Berse.
+“Cormac has been long settling his accounts.
+I wonder that I don’t see him here.”</p>
+
+<p>“You will see him,” said Stanhere, “but
+not yet. Now I challenge you, Berse, to
+wager-of-battle here at the Thing, and it
+may be that you will get double ransom;
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span>but I think myself that you will get
+none.”</p>
+
+<p>Berse chuckled. “You and your friends
+are in a hurry to get rid of me,” he said;
+“but I have been too bony for Cormac to
+swallow, and perhaps I may give you a
+stomach-ache before I’ve done with you.
+You take a high road, it seems to me.
+Perhaps you may stumble one of these fine
+days. One-and-thirty men have tried to
+stretch me out, you must know.”</p>
+
+<p>Stanhere looked straight before him, an
+immovable kind of man. “We don’t
+desire your death,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>“Then what in thunder do you desire?”
+Berse asked him.</p>
+
+<p>“We desire to put you in your place,”
+said Stanhere.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve done that already,” Berse told
+him.</p>
+
+<p>Afterwards the day of meeting was
+appointed, and before it was reached
+Cormac had come to the Thing. Nobody
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span>but Stanhere knew where he had been or
+what he had been doing. He had not been
+at home since his battle with Berse, but he
+had returned Shavening to Skeggi without
+a word, and then had betaken himself to
+his cousin Stanhere’s house. There he had
+remained ever since, hardly speaking or
+moving. Stanhere, who was a silent, heavy,
+slow-moving man himself, saw nothing in
+this; but it was very unlike Cormac to
+be brooding.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>Berse armed himself for the battle in his
+usual brisk manner. He had Whiting, he
+had a target which Thorveig the spae-wife
+had given him; he had Anlaf Peacock
+to hold his shield. He came joking to the
+Holm, and when he saw Cormac was to be
+Stanhere’s shield-bearer, he nodded and
+laughed, as if it was all a good joke.</p>
+
+<p>Scryme was the name of Stanhere’s sword,
+and they say of it that it never got rusty.
+The reason of that may be that it had no
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span>time; for its master was as frequent a
+champion as Berse.</p>
+
+<p>Now Berse, who began the battle, cut
+away two of Stanhere’s shields one after
+the other; but at the third shield he got
+Whiting jammed in the iron rim, and for a
+moment could not get him out. Cormac
+turned the shield sideways and jammed
+Whiting the faster; then Stanhere, with
+both hands to Scryme, made a huge cut
+at Berse, who parried with his target—Thorveig’s
+gift. The target was true, and
+turned Scryme, but the force of the blow
+could not be stayed. Scryme slid off the
+target and caught Berse upon the buttock.
+It split the flesh from there down the thigh
+to the shin-bone, and there it stuck. Berse
+tottered, but his sword Whiting was free.
+He drove at Stanhere with all his might,
+shore through his shield and target and
+smote him on the left breast. Then Berse
+fell forward on his face, and his blood poured
+from him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span>They carried him to the booth, and bound
+up his wound. It was an ugly gash, full
+two feet long, and had reached the bone.
+The muscles were cut clean through. But
+Berse was still full of his jokes. “Dig that
+trench deep enough,” he said, “and Cormac
+will lay me in it at the next bout.” And
+then he sang:</p>
+
+<p class="center">“<i>There was a carle at Windy-Gate</i>,”</p>
+
+<p>which is a well-known song; and also:</p>
+
+<p class="center">“<i>When on my chin the young beard grew</i>,”</p>
+
+<p>which is another.</p>
+
+<p>And he said: “Steady, you there at
+your scraping. I have a handsome wife
+at home who married a man, not a bulrush.
+Leave the pith in my leg: I have a use
+for it.” But he was very ill, and not able
+to be moved for a week or more. Even
+then they had to make a litter for him and
+carry him down to the firth.</p>
+
+<p>So it was that Stanvor, who was on the
+look-out every day, saw them carrying
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span>him up. She turned rather grey, and
+went to find Stangerd, who was working
+at a loom.</p>
+
+<p>“Stangerd,” she said, “there are men
+coming up from the water.”</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd looked at her. “Berse will be
+coming.” Her blue eyes were large and
+bright.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, I think Berse is there,” said Stanvor,
+“or what is left of him.”</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd grew suddenly red. “Is he dead?
+Is he dead?”</p>
+
+<p>Stanvor said, “I am sure that he is
+not. He is hurt, I believe.” Then she
+added: “I shall go to meet them. Or do
+you go?”</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd said, “I shall not go. I knew
+that this would come of it. He should
+have taken me with him. I will not go.”</p>
+
+<p>Then Stanvor ran out of the house just
+as she was and down the path to meet them.</p>
+
+<p>Berse was in great torment, but heard
+her coming from a long way off, and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span>listened. “That’s Slimlegs,” he said. And
+then he sighed, and turned away his head.</p>
+
+<p>But he had a twinkle for her when she
+came. No words passed between them; but
+Stanvor walked beside the litter, with her
+hand on it. And so Berse was carried into
+his house.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIX<br>
+<small>STANGERD FREES HERSELF</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">STANVOR SLIMLEGS tended Berse
+night and day, and only slept when
+he slept—which was not often, because
+he had fever and was light-headed with
+it, and wandered in his wits. She grew
+very thin and looked more than her age;
+her eyes grew larger and lighter, as if they
+would absorb danger from all about before
+it could get at Berse. But she never failed,
+and felt sure that she was not tired. From
+the first Stangerd had withdrawn herself
+and taken no part in the issue of the quarrel—though
+she herself hardly knew why.
+Her first thought when she heard of the
+mishap was one of anger against her husband.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span>“I offered myself to save him from this.
+He would not let me go with him. On his
+head be it. I know very well what I can
+do with men, and what I am worth. He
+thought he knew better—and this is the end
+of it.” So she sat fuming while they were
+bringing him in, and would not go to see
+him. Stanvor had come to her to say that
+he was put to bed, and that he had asked
+where she was. “Well,” she had replied,
+“and you told him, I suppose?” Yes,
+Stanvor said, she had told him. “And did
+he ask you to come and fetch me?” Stangerd
+wanted to know. Stanvor said No, he did
+not ask in so many words. “Let him
+ask, then,” Stangerd said. “He is not slow
+to seek what he wants.”</p>
+
+<p>Stanvor, who was very grave, said that
+the wound was bitter. “He is slit from
+the buttock to the knee. He may limp
+till his death-day.”</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd flamed and said, “He was
+Battle-Berse when he took me. Now he
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span>is Buttock-Berse. I am wife to a maimed
+man. Wife to Buttock-Berse.”</p>
+
+<p>Stanvor, looking scared and grave, left
+her without another word, and she sat on
+in the dusk by herself, twisting her white
+fingers together in her lap. When it was
+dark she got herself some supper, and made
+a bed in the Bower, where she slept ever
+after.</p>
+
+<p>She was left very much to herself by some
+sort of common consent among those of
+the house and Berse’s friends who came
+to see him. Stanvor saw her on and off
+during the days that followed, but offered
+her no news, and was not asked for any.
+But she did hear from common talk how
+the fight had gone, and how Cormac had
+taken some part in it. She did not praise
+him for that. She said to herself, “That
+was not done for love of me, or to get me.
+It was done to spite Berse. Between them
+these men bring me to shame.” Then she
+looked at herself a long time in the glass.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span>She observed the sheen of her cheek where
+the light caught the round of it; she felt
+her smooth throat, and drew her hair between
+her fingers and saw it like a mesh of
+golden silk. She drew her gown tight across
+her bosom, and said to herself: “Here
+am I even as I am, jilted by a young man,
+and bought by an old one who is lame of
+one leg. What does this mean? I was
+taught to love without my asking; I was
+married without my leave; and now I
+am to be housewife to a limping dotard
+just when my beauty is ripe. Here’s a
+pretty end to Cormac’s songs; here’s a
+good use to make of the girdle of Fricka.”</p>
+
+<p>But she did not yet know what she could
+do. She was resolved that she would not
+stay with Berse, and clear that she could
+not call Cormac to her. If he came of his
+own will she might take him; but she would
+want more wooing. Her heart was cool;
+he must chafe it till it was hot again.
+Sometimes she thought of calling Cormac
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span>in to help her; sometimes she turned to
+her brother Toothgnasher. Finally she
+decided that she would go by herself as the
+law allowed her. There was one thing
+against it. If she went she would leave
+Stanvor alone with Berse, who almost
+certainly would make her his third wife.
+Now she told herself that it was no concern
+of hers what became of either of the pair.
+She had no quarrel with Stanvor, whom
+she despised; but she felt that she might
+be affected by it if they came together,
+and did not wish to be affected by a girl
+of whom she had so light an opinion. She
+wished, on the whole, to go on despising
+Stanvor. But you cannot despise a person
+who makes you uneasy in your mind.</p>
+
+<p>One day—it was towards evening—she
+stopped Stanvor as she was carrying a warm
+drink to Berse.</p>
+
+<p>“Where are you going?” she said,
+though she knew quite well.</p>
+
+<p>Stanvor looked at her quietly, without
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span>a flicker in her light blue eyes. “I am
+going to take him this,” she said, “and
+then he will sleep.”</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd grew angry. “<i>Him!</i>” she said.
+“<i>He!</i> You talk strangely, my girl. One
+might think you talked of your husband
+or lover, to hear you.”</p>
+
+<p>“No one would think so who knows us,”
+Stanvor said. “You at least know better.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do I know that he is not your lover,
+that old man?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, you know that.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know that I found you here when
+I was brought. You have been here ever
+since. If I am to share a husband with
+you, let him be a whole one, not a fragment.”</p>
+
+<p>Stanvor said now: “Forgive me if I leave
+you. This gruel will get cold, and then he
+will make a grimace and refuse it. I will
+take it to him, and then come back and
+listen to you.” With that she went away.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span>When she came back she found Stangerd
+in a cold rage. She stood quietly before
+her with unfaltering eyes. Stangerd looked
+all ways but hers, then broke out:</p>
+
+<p>“What are you here for? Why are you
+here?”</p>
+
+<p>“I thought that you had more to say.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, no; there is nothing more to say.
+You know all that is in my heart.”</p>
+
+<p>“If I knew that,” said Stanvor, “I
+should know more than you do.”</p>
+
+<p>“If I knew what was in your heart,
+my girl,” Stangerd cried, “I should kill
+you.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, indeed you would not,” said
+Stanvor. “You would be sorry for me.”
+With that she went about her business.</p>
+
+<p>She lay on the floor below Berse’s bed,
+having covered herself with a bearskin.
+She was awake, and listened to him grumbling
+and muttering to himself.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s no sense in it,” said Berse.
+“I’m an old fool for my pains. A great,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span>splendid, sizable girl beside a handy, vigorous
+man—and a dead fire between them, cold
+ashes.” Then he stopped for a while, but
+grunted as his pains shot in him. “A
+pretty child, a pretty girl,” he went on.
+“All that the heart of a man could desire—mine
+at a nod. But the other touches
+my pride. I’ve always had what I wanted.”
+Then he dropped off to sleep, but Stanvor
+lay with her eyes wide open, staring into
+the dark corners. She was very excited.
+Her heart was beating fast. But she was
+so guarded that not even to herself would
+she voice that which made her blood race
+in her. And she would do nothing one
+way or the other.</p>
+
+<p>As the days wore on she knew that
+Stangerd was busy about something.
+Stangerd used to go out by herself, and was
+away for a good many hours of the day.
+One of the house-carles said that she had
+been seen down by the firth talking to
+Thorveig the spae-wife. Berse had given
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span>up asking about her. He was getting
+better, and had begun to take notice of
+Stanvor. One day he said to her, “You
+ought to be married, sweetheart.”</p>
+
+<p>Stanvor’s heart stood still, but she recovered
+herself. “Get well again, and we
+can think about it.”</p>
+
+<p>“That I will,” said Berse. “He’ll be a
+lucky fellow that gets you.”</p>
+
+<p>She turned away her head.</p>
+
+<p>Then came the day when he could get
+about the house. He came hobbling out
+into the sun, leaning upon a stick and
+Stanvor’s shoulder. They came full upon
+Stangerd, who was sunning herself in the
+court. There were house-carles at work in
+the outhouses. Stangerd clapped her hands
+together, and when they looked up, she
+called to them to come to her. Berse all
+this time was shaking on his stick, watching
+her, twitching his eyebrows.</p>
+
+<p>When the men were standing about,
+Stangerd, whose colour was like flame,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span>swept Berse into her talk with a stretched-out
+arm. “Take notice, all of you, and
+bear me witness,” she said, “that I, Stangerd,
+Thorkel’s daughter, separate myself
+from this half-man. He was called Battle-Berse
+when I took him; but now he is
+Buttock-Berse, and I will have nothing
+to do with a blemished man. I separate
+myself from him, and claim my liberty
+and my goods. That is all I have to
+say.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mistress,” said Berse, who was very
+still, leaning on his two sticks, “you have
+said enough. Less would have served your
+turn.” Then he turned and left her, hobbling
+along the flags in the sun with Stanvor
+walking beside him. Stanvor held herself
+as stiffly as a young birch-tree. Not a word
+upon the scene passed between them: Berse
+talked gently and quietly, and Stanvor
+helped him all she could.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span>That same day Stangerd left him and
+rode down to the water. She went home
+to her own people. Berse made no effort
+to stop her, and when she was gone he
+called Stanvor to him and took her in his
+arms. She came readily.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s you and me now, sweetheart,” he
+said.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m ready,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you mean that?” said Berse, holding
+her close. “Have you no pride?”</p>
+
+<p>“I have a great deal,” she said. “But
+I gave it to you long ago.”</p>
+
+<p>Berse kissed her, but immediately put
+her down.</p>
+
+<p>“If I have your pride to keep, I’ll use
+it to the best advantage. You and I will
+keep our distance of each other for a while
+longer. We must see what that termagant
+does next. She is a fine woman—I never
+saw a finer—but some fiend is in her. Let
+him take her. She is nothing to me now.”</p>
+
+<p>“She is beautiful,” Stanvor said.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span>Berse regarded her. “Yes,” he said, “so
+she is—as a field of corn full of red poppy
+is a goodly sight. But there’s the less corn,
+there’s the less nourishment for the husbandman.
+Now in your little slim body, in your
+kitten face and great blue eyes there may
+be the joy of a man’s days and nights. Wait
+till I can get about again, and we’ll see what
+can be done.”</p>
+
+<p>Stanvor said, “I am yours when you
+want me. I have always been that.”</p>
+
+<p>Things went quietly for a few days; but
+Stanvor was aware that Berse often looked
+at her when he thought she did not know
+anything about it. She smiled to herself
+and kept a good heart. By and by, before
+the winter had come, and no tidings yet
+from Stangerd’s kin, Berse stopped in front
+of Stanvor and said, “I am minded to
+take a child in fostership. It will be good
+for you, and the money will be kept for
+you when you want it. What do you say
+to this, sweetheart?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span>Stanvor said, “I say what you say.
+What child have you in mind?”</p>
+
+<p>“I shall take Anlaf Hoskil’s son Haldor,”
+said Berse. “A good, strong boy, more
+than twelve years old. He shall be in your
+fostership and sleep in your bed.”</p>
+
+<p>Stanvor said, “Very well; I’ll do my
+best with him.”</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>So that was done. Haldor was a bold
+lad, saucy, and forward for his age. Stanvor
+got very fond of him, and he of her. He
+learned of her to consider Berse the greatest
+paragon in Iceland. Berse, except for a
+slight limp, was now as well as ever he had
+been, and amused himself that winter by
+teaching Haldor how to exercise himself.
+He showed him the use of the sword, the
+bill, the axe, and the spear; he gave him
+horses to ride, and made him swim in the
+river every day. Haldor was a rough boy
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span>when he came, but this sort of work made
+him as fierce as a young man. Stanvor
+used to talk to him every night about Berse’s
+gentleness and good temper. Between them
+they were in a fair way to make a man of
+Haldor.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XX<br>
+<small>TOOTHGNASHER</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">NOW in the Spring Thorkel Toothgnasher,
+who was Stangerd’s brother, came up
+to Sowerby and asked for Berse. He
+had a man called Wale with him, a red-haired,
+broken-nosed man with a very shiny
+face. Stanvor saw them, and said that
+Berse was from home. They said that they
+would wait, and sat down in the hall.
+Stanvor served them with drink, and Toothgnasher,
+before his draught, looked at her
+over the rim of the horn.</p>
+
+<p>“You had something to do with my
+sister’s flitting, little mistress, I think.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing that I know of,” said Stanvor.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span>“She told Berse why she was going. I
+heard her.”</p>
+
+<p>“Did she not tell you another reason?”</p>
+
+<p>“No,” said Stanvor.</p>
+
+<p>“What! Was she not jealous of you
+for ever about her husband?”</p>
+
+<p>Stanvor said, “She could have tended
+him herself if she had cared. Then I should
+have kept away. I never did anything
+that she offered to do. She will never tell
+you that she was jealous of me.”</p>
+
+<p>Toothgnasher said, “Well, it’s strange
+if a man don’t know his sister’s mind.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is strange,” Stanvor agreed; “but
+it seems to be your case.”</p>
+
+<p>Toothgnasher had no more to say. Then
+Wale, having drained his horn, said
+slyly: “Old Berse likes pretty girls about
+him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah,” said Toothgnasher, taking him up,
+“a man must pay for his pleasures.”</p>
+
+<p>Haldor was listening to all this, sitting
+by the fire, nursing his foot. He frowned.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span>“Do you think he would pay such as you
+two are?” he said.</p>
+
+<p>Wale started. “How now, you little
+egg?”</p>
+
+<p>“You will see,” said Haldor. “My
+foster-father will make short work with
+you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, be done!” said Toothgnasher, and
+turned again to Stanvor. “You, mistress,”
+he said, “were an inmate of Thorarin’s
+house once upon a time?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” said Stanvor, “very much against
+my will.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thorarin paid Berse for that,” said
+Wale. “He did so.”</p>
+
+<p>Stanvor answered quietly, “Yes, he paid
+with his life, and the life of his sons.”</p>
+
+<p>“And now it is Berse’s turn to pay,”
+said Toothgnasher, very red.</p>
+
+<p>Just then Berse came in and greeted the
+strangers civilly.</p>
+
+<p>Toothgnasher at once opened his affair.
+He desired the bride-price and the dowry
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span>of Stangerd, who had declared that she
+would not be the wife of a maimed man.
+Berse sat and twiddled his thumbs, while
+Stanvor, kneeling, took his boots off.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t pay,” said Berse. “I’m as well
+as ever I was in my life, and could marry
+a dozen like Stangerd if I had a mind.
+But I have not. I’m as pleased as daylight
+that she has taken herself off; but I won’t
+pay, and that’s flat.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is much too flat for us,” said Toothgnasher.
+“You shall fight me for that,
+Berse.”</p>
+
+<p>“So I will,” says Berse.</p>
+
+<p>Toothgnasher got up. “Wager-of-battle
+at the holm by Tiltness it shall be.”</p>
+
+<p>“So it shall, then,” Berse said. “You’ll
+be making little of me, I daresay, such a
+stout man as you be grown; but I shall be
+there for you.”</p>
+
+<p>Then Wale had something to say. His
+eyes were bright, but he was rather short
+of breath. “If I were to come to you,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span>Berse, with money in my hand, and ask for
+that young girl in marriage, what would
+you say to me?”</p>
+
+<p>Berse, twinkling, looked about for Stanvor.
+She stood in the shadow, but he saw her
+steady eyes, very watchful. He smiled and
+nodded to her.</p>
+
+<p>“I should say that you were too late in
+the day,” he told Wale. Everybody was
+tense and quiet. Everybody spoke shortly,
+and those who did not speak held themselves
+in waiting for something.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t care much for that answer,”
+Wale said.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s all you will get from me,” says
+Berse; “but you may ask her, if you
+please.”</p>
+
+<p>Wale said that he should ask her. “And
+I’ll ask Ord, her injured parent,” he said,
+growing angry. “You reckoned to do him
+a service when you took her out of Gutdale
+and gave Thorarin his death-blow—but what
+have you done? You have turned a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span>pretty girl into a byword with your snug
+vices.”</p>
+
+<p>Stanvor said, “You lie. He has been
+more than good to me.”</p>
+
+<p>Berse said, “Get you gone, the pair of
+you, and do your worst.”</p>
+
+<p>“By my head,” Toothgnasher said, “I’ll
+get me gone, as you say, but I’ll do my
+worst beforehand.”</p>
+
+<p>With that he reached back for his bill
+and hewed at Berse. Haldor slipped into
+the fray with Whiting, and saved Berse’s
+life. He cut in like a flash of lightning,
+and knocked the bill sideways. Then he
+handed Berse the sword, and Berse in his
+stocking feet engaged with Toothgnasher.
+Haldor took down a spear from the wall,
+and stood leaning on it to watch the fight.
+It was long and arduous. Toothgnasher had
+a great reach and was very active. Berse
+could not get in at him at all.</p>
+
+<p>Stanvor stood where she was, in the
+shadow of the great hearth, and was so
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span>intent upon the battle that she did not see
+what Wale was about. He had got behind
+her to the door which led to the Bower,
+and suddenly threw his cloak over her head
+and drew it across her mouth so that she could
+not cry out. Holding that fast in one hand,
+he put the other about her body, lifted her
+and turned to take her out by the back door.</p>
+
+<p>Haldor saw him and went after him.
+He caught him just by the door and drove
+his spear into the middle of his back. That
+was his death-blow; he fell forward on to
+the top of Stanvor, and there he lay. She
+lay quiet, too, until Haldor got the cloak
+off her head. Then the two of them went
+back to see what was being done. They
+found Berse wiping the blade of Whiting.</p>
+
+<p>“Hot and dirty work,” said Berse; “but
+there lies Toothgnasher.”</p>
+
+<p>Haldor said, “Foster-father, I have killed
+a man. I have killed Wale.”</p>
+
+<p>“Have you so?” said Berse. “What
+did you do that for?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span>Haldor told him. Then said Berse, “You
+have done well, my lad. Now get we these
+two without the house; and then we’ll
+have supper, and then we’ll go to bed.” So
+they dragged out of doors Toothgnasher
+and Wale and covered them decently with
+a cloth.</p>
+
+<p>When they came back they found that
+Stanvor and the women had set the table.
+They had supper, and Stanvor waited upon
+Berse as she had always done.</p>
+
+<p>But towards the end, Berse, who had said
+nothing, told Stanvor to fetch another jug
+of mead. When she brought it and had
+filled his horn, he held it up and said to
+her, “Drink of it, sweetheart.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why should I drink?” she asked him,
+smiling shyly.</p>
+
+<p>“Drink to the night,” said Berse. So
+she put her lips to the horn, and gave it back
+to him. Berse drained it.</p>
+
+<p>He said no more, but sent Haldor to bed,
+and sat by the fire, knitting and clearing
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span>his brows. Stanvor was at work upon
+embroidery on the other side of the hearth.
+When the time came, she put the work
+away in its place, and came to Berse to say
+good-night. He put his arm round her,
+and kept her there.</p>
+
+<p>Presently he said, “Two wives have I
+had, and intend for a third. What do you
+say to that, sweetheart?”</p>
+
+<p>“I say what you say,” she replied, looking
+down at him; for he sat in his chair while
+she stood over him.</p>
+
+<p>“My first wife was very well. They
+called her a paragon, but I don’t know.
+We fell out now and then about trifles. She
+had a quick temper, and was very particular.
+Myself, I’m a careless sort of man,
+always in scrapes. She could not bear that.
+She liked the same things to take place at
+the same hour every day. Now, they never
+did with me, and never will. However, we
+made a shift to get on. Then there was
+Stangerd. I don’t know what had warped
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span>her; but I was a fool to be talked over.
+Ah, and a fool to be taken by her good
+looks when I had a better beside me. But
+when I told you I was going to take her,
+what did you say? You said: ‘Well and
+good, master.’ Now why did you say that?”</p>
+
+<p>She still smiled, tolerantly and wisely,
+and still looked down kindly at him.
+“Because you must always do as you like,”
+she said.</p>
+
+<p>“And so I will,” he said, “and you shall
+marry me, sweetheart, when you will.”</p>
+
+<p>“I will marry you now,” she said. He
+got up and took her in his arms. She stood
+on tiptoe and raised him her face. He
+kissed her long, and feeling her fierce young
+body against his, he laughed for joy, and
+said: “All’s well that ends well. Come,
+sweetheart, I’m not too old to teach you
+the way of marriage.”</p>
+
+<p>She said, “You’ll teach me little, Berse.”</p>
+
+<p>Berse said, “We’ll see.”</p>
+
+<p>In the morning Haldor asked her where
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span>she had been all night. She smiled with
+her eyes, and kissed him. “I was at a
+wedding,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>“Whose wedding was that?” asked
+Haldor.</p>
+
+<p>She kissed him again; and then he understood,
+and kissed her.</p>
+
+<p>The tale has no more to say of Battle-Berse.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXI<br>
+<small>THORWALD THE TINSMITH</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">NOW back we go to Tongue on Midfirth
+to see what was going on there.</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd’s father was not overjoyed to have
+her back again at home, but he said that
+she had been very right to leave Sowerby
+and a husband who put her to ridicule.
+He was sanguine, too, that she would get
+her property back either by a pleading at
+the Thing or by Berse’s sense of justice;
+but his son Toothgnasher thought differently,
+and as the season wore away, it seemed
+that Toothgnasher was right. Then came
+the battle in Berse’s house, and the end of
+Toothgnasher and Wale. Thorkel took that
+hardly, and showed Stangerd by his dealing
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span>that he put some of the blame upon her.
+He now talked of ransom and the need
+of a champion to take up his quarrel. He
+talked more than once of Cormac as of the
+right man in the right place, as the natural
+champion of his family, and all the rest
+of it. Stangerd said nothing, but remained
+handsome, silent, and self-possessed as she
+had always been. Yet there’s no doubt but
+she expected Cormac to come, and looked
+for him every day.</p>
+
+<p>But he did not come, though he was known
+to be at home and at work about his house
+and fields. Narve had seen him, and had
+even hailed him from afar off; but as Cormac
+made no sign of access, the timid man had
+not cared to pass the time of day with
+him, or to slip in the news which was so
+much in Thorkel’s mouth just now.</p>
+
+<p>But it must needs be that Cormac knew of
+her return: in fact, he did know it, for his
+brother had told him. He took the news
+quietly; he was fallen very glum of late,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span>and made no more poetry. He went on
+with his work as if there was no such person
+as Stangerd in the world—and then he
+began to get restless again, and irritable.
+He lost his temper with things (not with
+persons), and could not stay long at one
+job. Then, in the late summer, suddenly, he
+told his brother that he thought of going
+to sea. He said that there was a ship in
+the firth to be had at a moderate figure. He
+would get some stuff together, and a crew,
+and go off trading to Norway. Maybe they
+could do some raiding: he wouldn’t say,
+but they might go to Ireland.</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils said that he would go too, and
+as soon as the gear could be got on board
+and the men found; but nothing much
+was done until the early winter. Not a word,
+so far, of Stangerd—not a word!</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>But by this time news had come to
+Midfirth that Berse had married Stanvor
+Slimlegs, and had made himself very
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span>comfortable, being perfectly recovered of
+his slit buttock. He had fortified his house
+with a great wall of stone and turf, and it
+was thought that Stanvor was going to
+give him a son. Thorkel was in a fine way
+over these tales, and went about saying
+that he had fallen on evil days and that
+Iceland was no longer the home for free
+men or honest men. If a man could turn
+his wife out of the house at a moment’s
+notice, kill her brother and take a new wife,
+and no call to be made upon him—what
+were we coming to? Narve’s teeth chattered,
+and he said it was very dreadful.</p>
+
+<p>The upshot was that Thorold Tinsmith
+came into the story: a well-to-do man of
+large presence and a comely, fair beard,
+which lay upon his chest like a force of water.
+He was always fondling it, and had a trick
+of squeezing it up in his hand so that he
+could make a brush of the end of it, and
+brush his nose with it. He had flat, light
+blue eyes, and spoke slowly and gravely.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span>A rich man, one of the Skiddings of Fleet,
+a widower without children, an excellent
+tinsmith. After a great deal of debating
+with his brother Thorvard and his neighbours,
+he took boat and sailed into
+Midfirth.</p>
+
+<p>He stayed the night on board, and rode
+up next day, with his brother and a couple
+more witnesses and tokeners, to see Thorkel.
+The day was spent in talking. He saw
+nothing of Stangerd till the evening meal,
+when she came out in white—just as she
+had been when Cormac first set eyes upon
+her—and served the table. She was, maybe,
+more matronly than she had been then.
+Experience had made her more sedate.
+There was no spying through Hagbard’s
+eyes, no tip-toe work behind the hangings:
+but then there was no seer to view her feet
+and no singer to cry upon her starry beauty.
+The grave, portly tinsmith hardly looked at
+her; and when she had gone to bed, and
+the men drew closer together to bicker
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span>the thing to an end, and Thorkel began
+to vaunt her as a wonder of the world,
+Thorwald roundly said that one wife was as
+good as another to him, so far as her looks
+went. A wife, he said, should be well found
+in money and other movables, a good
+breeder, and handy in the house. She must
+have a pleasant nature and not be always
+asking the reason of things. It might easily
+happen, he said, that a man did not know,
+or have at call, the reason for something
+said or done, or required to be done. He
+did not care—nor was it convenient—that
+he should have to own up to ignorance. It
+made him look foolish; moreover, it might
+lead to debate, and bring endless confusion
+in the household. For everything he said
+he appealed to his brother Thorvard for
+confirmation. Thorvard confirmed him every
+time; and the end of it was that they were
+too many for Thorkel, who found himself
+asking them to take Stangerd off his hands,
+offering to make good the gear which she
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span>had left behind her at Sowerby, and to add
+more to it. With these terms the tinsmith
+was content, and said that he would talk
+to Stangerd next day.</p>
+
+<p>When her father told her what was forward,
+she gloomed and said nothing for a time,
+neither assenting nor refusing. Presently
+she began to breathe quickly, as if thought
+troubled her breast. And then she said:
+“It is a strange thing to me that I am so
+unhappy in my dealings with men. See
+that little pale slip of a thing, Stanvor:
+she has been made happy with what I
+despised. See Cormac, who loved me first—what
+have I done—what did I do—that
+he should treat me so? It seems
+to me that a girl’s good looks are her
+bad fortune. I wish I had never been
+born.”</p>
+
+<p>Thorkel had little comfort for her.
+“Thorwald,” he told her, “thinks nothing
+of your looks. He is a peaceful man who
+wants to be quiet. If you let him alone,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span>he will let you alone. What more do
+you want?”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t want to be let alone by the man
+I marry,” she said. “I don’t marry to be
+let alone.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then you ought to have married Cormac,”
+Thorkel told her. There was more; but
+in the end she dried her eyes and consented
+to see the tinsmith.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>Thorwald stroked his fine beard as he
+looked at her the next day. She stood up
+before him, but he did not at first think it
+necessary to rise from the bench.</p>
+
+<p>“So, Stangerd, it seems you are inclined
+to try again,” he said. “Well, I am not
+one who says that a woman is the worse for
+experience. Far from it. Now, let me speak
+to you of myself, for I would not have you
+say afterwards that I had deceived you, or
+hear you tell me that you separate yourself
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span>from me on that account. I am a well-to-do
+man of quiet and ruminating temper.
+I do not jump at a thing. I like to turn
+it over and about. You must not expect
+me to be always fondling and kissing. I
+have many irons in the fire, and when my
+mind is occupied, I expect to be let alone.
+All in good time, and a time for everything
+is my favourite saying. I have turned
+off many a trouble by the use of that lore.
+I have a good house, and many people about
+it, one way and another. You will have
+half a dozen women to oversee, and there
+are house-carles and labourers and shepherds.
+It is well stored, and I choose to have a
+generous table; yet I love thrift and detest
+wastefulness. My brother Thorvard lives
+with us. He will please you: he can be
+very merry at times, and sings a good song.
+So do I, for that matter, but I don’t profess
+to be a skald. I hope we shall be very
+happy together, and don’t doubt of it if
+you remember that I am a serious man
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span>who has no time for trifling or outbreaks of
+temper.”</p>
+
+<p>Then he got up and, putting one hand
+upon her shoulder, put the other under her
+chin. Lifting her face, he looked kindly
+into her beautiful stormy eyes, and then
+kissed her.</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd had never been wooed after
+this sort, and her heart was like lead within
+her. She had, indeed, no heart wherewith
+to fling away from such a suitor; but she
+was very near to tears. She was as lovely
+as ever she had been, and yet the light
+seemed to have left her, so that she was
+anybody’s for the picking up. But she had
+lost her spirit. Cormac, perhaps, had got
+that: she didn’t know, and didn’t care.
+She allowed her lips to the tinsmith; she
+faltered that she would do her best; and
+then she went away.</p>
+
+<p>Within a short time she was married to
+him, and knew the best and worst of him.
+He, for his part, might as well have married
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span>a block of wood; but he neither knew nor
+cared what she was made of.</p>
+
+<p>They were married at Thorkel’s house,
+and there they stayed for the mid-winter
+season. Then, suddenly, one day, Cormac
+came to the house and saw her again.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXII<br>
+<small>CORMAC COMES BACK</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">SHE hadn’t seen him since the day of
+her first bridal, the day when Berse
+brought her home into Sowerby. They had
+parted in unkindness, and it seems that
+they were to meet so; for her first feeling
+in her discontent was of hot rage against
+him as the maker of it. Her eyes were
+angry, and her cheek-bones were angry; she
+sat where she was by the fire with her
+needlework still in her lap, and watched
+him, waiting for him to speak.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac, also, at first said nothing to her.
+He stood framed in the doorway, wryly
+smiling, frowning with one eyebrow. He
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span>considered her as a painter considers his
+unfinished work, whistling in his teeth as
+he wonders where he shall begin. Words
+and phrases sang and danced in his head,
+as he absorbed her again. Then he said,
+“Stangerd, you are like a morning in April,
+when the sun is breaking through the rain,
+and thinning it into mist. If I could stand
+always at this distance from you, Stangerd,
+and look at you like this, I should make
+songs which would be the music of all Iceland.
+But I can’t, and you know that I can’t, keep
+so far from you now, after what has been
+between you and me; and so I am going
+away from you, my golden wonder, and
+will put the blue water between us. What
+do you say to that?”</p>
+
+<p>He spoke lightly and mockingly, or so
+she felt it. She governed herself therefore,
+so that he should never guess that she was
+unhappy. She picked up her needlework
+and took a stitch or two, as she said, “You
+will do as you please, I suppose. It is what
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span>you have always done. When will you
+sail?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not yet, not yet,” he said. Then he
+came into the hall and stood near her, right
+over her. “So you tired of Berse, and
+have taken another husband?”</p>
+
+<p>She said nothing to that. “By and by,”
+he went on, “you may be willing to have me.”</p>
+
+<p>That time she could not answer him. He
+was hurting her.</p>
+
+<p>He sat down beside her, and picked up
+an edge of the shift she was hemming. “I
+remember very well, when you and I were
+plighted, that I used to say you should be
+much married. You didn’t like it. It made
+you angry. But you have done it. You
+are much married; and now it is I who
+don’t like it. Do you remember that,
+Stangerd?”</p>
+
+<p>She nodded, but could not look at him.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t like it at all,” he went on; “but
+I will tell you this—believe it or not as you
+will. When I wished to see you with many
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span>lovers, many husbands, Stangerd, I loved
+you much better than I do now.”</p>
+
+<p>A large tear rolled down her cheek, and
+hung there, until it fell into her needlework.
+Cormac saw it gather and drop, but he did
+not alter his manner.</p>
+
+<p>“I am going with my brother Thorgils to
+Norway,” he told her; “but I thought that
+I would come to see you again before I went.
+What are you making there?”</p>
+
+<p>She told him—a shift.</p>
+
+<p>“It is for yourself? You will wear it?”</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose so,” she said. “Why do
+you ask me?”</p>
+
+<p>He said, “It would be strange if I was
+not interested in anything which will be
+as near to you as this linen. It would be
+strange if I felt very friendly-disposed
+towards it.”</p>
+
+<p>“You need not tumble it in your hands,
+at least,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>“I feel as if I were feeling about for a
+grip at its windpipe,” he said, then stopped
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span>himself with a short laugh, and let go
+of it.</p>
+
+<p>“Will you do me a service?” he asked
+her.</p>
+
+<p>“What do you want me to do?”</p>
+
+<p>“That linen you are stitching would make
+me a shirt to wear over my mail. Will you
+make it for me instead of yourself?”</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him quickly. “Are you
+going to wear mail? Are you going
+Viking?”</p>
+
+<p>His eyes laughed. “I think so,” he said;
+“like my father before me—but not by any
+means for so good a reason.”</p>
+
+<p>“What was your father’s reason?” she
+asked him; and he told her.</p>
+
+<p>“He was a man of large mind and great
+passions. He felt that the world lay to
+the hand of the man who could handle it.
+He said that the might followed the mind.
+He was restless, and cramped in this country
+of stony hills and narrow dales and strait
+seas. The fire burned in him and he gave
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span>it vent. He went far and did greatly; he
+went often, and at last he never came back.
+But he died as he had lived, greatly.”</p>
+
+<p>She thought that very fine, and expected
+much the same answer to her next question;
+but she did not get it.</p>
+
+<p>“And what is your reason?”</p>
+
+<p>“My reason is that I may forget that you
+ever lived and made me suffer,” he said
+plainly.</p>
+
+<p>She bit her lips, and her eyes filled with
+smarting tears.</p>
+
+<p>“You are ungenerous. You are a coward
+to say so. And it is not at all true. I was
+living at Nupsdale when you came there.
+I could not know that you were coming,
+or who you were that came. You saw me,
+and after that never left me alone. You
+taught me to love you—and then you left
+me, when you had made your songs about
+me. That was all you wanted out of me,
+I see very well. Well, go now, and make
+your songs of whom you will.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span>He stood over her now, dark with rage.
+“Song! Song! What song is left in me?
+What have I left to sing of? The glory of
+song is departed from me. Once I had it
+like a running water in me, a well-spring
+that never ran dry. Then you came and
+dipped your hands in it, and it flowed all
+about you as if it would carry you away
+to the sea. And then it slept. It went when
+you were false to me.”</p>
+
+<p>And now she jumped up, flaming. “I
+was never false to you. I was never false.
+You are lying. It was you who tired of me,
+and left me in the lurch on my wedding-day.
+I sat alone here in my crown, with
+my maids, waiting for you—and you did
+not come. Now go to sea or where you
+will—but leave me. I will never make a
+shirt for you, so long as I live.”</p>
+
+<p>There where she stood, all flushed and
+splendid in her fury, he came to her and
+took her in his arms. Before she could
+stop him he had kissed her twice, roughly
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span>and fiercely. Then she broke away, and
+left him without another word.</p>
+
+<p>But when she came back more than an
+hour later, he was still there in the same
+place. She stiffened her neck and squared
+her shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>“I required you to go,” she said, “but
+you are still here. What sort of conduct
+is this, do you think? My father and my
+husband will be here soon, and there will
+be more trouble on your account. Has
+there not been enough?”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac said, “Stangerd, I can’t go until
+you forgive me. I acted badly, I am very
+sorry.”</p>
+
+<p>“You forgot yourself,” she said; “but
+I shan’t bear a grudge. Go in peace.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” he said, “I will go. But I shall
+see you again.”</p>
+
+<p>“You cannot,” she told him. “Thorwald
+will be angry.”</p>
+
+<p>“That makes no matter,” he said, “so
+long as you are not angry.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span>She said, “Ah, but I shall be very angry
+if you use me so.” She spoke more kindly.</p>
+
+<p>“I will not,” he said. “I will not touch
+you again, unless I go mad again.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s no promise at all,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>“When you are angry,” he said, “I
+want you more than ever I did in my life.
+And you call up something in me which
+must subdue you at all costs. That’s the
+way of it. Fire calls to fire, and the two
+burn and leap together.”</p>
+
+<p>She was grave now, and shook her head.
+“This must not be,” she said. “I shall
+go away from here as soon as I can.”</p>
+
+<p>“You will do no good by that. I shall
+find you.”</p>
+
+<p>“I hope you will not try.”</p>
+
+<p>“I also hope so. I could not be happy
+with you if I had you—nor you with me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Cormac,” she said, and touched his arm,
+“you must learn to do without me. It is
+not to be. Now I see very well that it was
+true what your brother Thorgils said when
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span>he was here that day—when you were not.
+He said that the spae-wife had put a spell
+upon our plighting, that you and I could
+never come together. And it is true; we
+have not, and we shall not.”</p>
+
+<p>He seized both her hands. “Stangerd,
+come now—come with me! I am parcht
+with thirst.”</p>
+
+<p>She tried to get away. “No, no, no!
+You can never drink of me.”</p>
+
+<p>He implored her, he raved; but she was
+ready for him now. She was kind, but she
+would do nothing. Then she heard her
+people coming in, and told him to go. He
+said he would not unless she kissed him.
+She did it, but not as he wished.</p>
+
+<p>He went out, brushing by Thorkel and
+Thorwald, who were coming in to dinner.
+He took no notice whatever of them; but
+Thorwald asked who he was.</p>
+
+<p>Thorkel said shortly, “That’s a man
+whom I don’t want to see any more. That
+is Black Cormac of Melstead, a dangerous
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span>man. He has been after Stangerd, you may
+be sure. Now you must deal quietly with
+that man, or you will be sorry for it. He
+has brought more troubles to this house
+than enough.”</p>
+
+<p>Thorwald brushed his nose with the golden
+end of his beard and was silent through
+dinner. Afterwards he asked Stangerd
+about Cormac. She told him that he was
+going abroad and had come to say good-bye.</p>
+
+<p>Thorwald said he was glad to know
+that. “He was not very civil to Thorkel
+or to me.”</p>
+
+<p>“He had no reason to be,” Stangerd said
+rather shortly.</p>
+
+<p>Thorwald said, “You surprise me.
+What, is he to treat your husband like so
+much brushwood?”</p>
+
+<p>“He is a man,” Stangerd replied, “who
+treats other men as he finds them. If they
+are friendly, so is he; if unfriendly, he is
+more so. If they are indifferent, so is he.”</p>
+
+<p>“But,” said Thorwald, “I was not indifferent—though
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span>he was. How could I be
+indifferent to the men who come to visit
+you?”</p>
+
+<p>“You had better learn to be indifferent
+when Cormac comes,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>Thorwald was very surprised, and brushed
+his nose a long time, until she asked him
+to cease.</p>
+
+<p>“And why, pray, am I to cease?” he
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>She said, “Because I ask it.”</p>
+
+<p>He found the reason bad. “Nobody has
+ever asked me that before.”</p>
+
+<p>She said, “I hope that I shan’t have
+to ask it again.”</p>
+
+<p>He considered this answer. “It’s a little
+trick I have,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>She replied, “It’s a little trick I
+don’t like. It makes you look very
+foolish.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nobody,” he said, “has ever told me
+so before.”</p>
+
+<p>“I wish that somebody had,” said she,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span>“for then it would not have been for me
+to tell you.”</p>
+
+<p>He drew himself up and squared his
+shoulders. “Do you think it seemly to
+tell your husband that he looks foolish?”</p>
+
+<p>She returned to her seat by the fire and
+her sewing. “I think it more seemly,”
+she said, “than that he should continue to
+look so.”</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIII<br>
+<small>STANGERD GOES TO THE FLEET</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">NOW the poet of whom I spoke a long
+time ago as having his own idea of
+Cormac’s affair, singing about his troth
+broken on his wedding-day, says:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first">“But of this matter, when Cormac,</div>
+<div class="verse">Betroth’d, handfasted as he was,</div>
+<div class="verse">Lover accepted, yet drew back</div>
+<div class="verse">At the last hour, a thing unchancy—</div>
+<div class="verse">Witch-finders hint at spell or curse</div>
+<div class="verse">Upon the plighting. Each man has</div>
+<div class="verse">His own curse in him, and my fancy</div>
+<div class="verse">Sees Cormac storing her to heart</div>
+<div class="verse">To sing about in sounding verse,</div>
+<div class="verse">Making a goddess of a lass,</div>
+<div class="verse">Not better but so much the worse</div>
+<div class="verse">The more herself has art and part</div>
+<div class="verse">In the business. Call this nigromancy</div>
+<div class="verse">Done by the spae-wife out of spite—<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span></div>
+<div class="verse">I tell you, Love’s a tricksy sprite</div>
+<div class="verse">For poets’ bosoms. Love says, Kiss</div>
+<div class="verse">Your well-belov’d, she’ll kiss again,</div>
+<div class="verse">Apt pupil; but it’s also true</div>
+<div class="verse">The more you kiss, the more you strain</div>
+<div class="verse">Together, the less lover you,</div>
+<div class="verse">And the more she. Skald’s wisdom is</div>
+<div class="verse">To love apart, since love is pain</div>
+<div class="verse">At all events, howe’er you do;</div>
+<div class="verse">And out of pain that Song cometh</div>
+<div class="verse">The which you live by, as by bread</div>
+<div class="verse">Live some, and other some by kiss</div>
+<div class="verse">(As women all). Where there are two,</div>
+<div class="verse">And one a poet, one must rue.</div>
+<div class="verse">Here it was Stangerd, as the case is</div>
+<div class="verse">Whene’er a girl accepts the embraces</div>
+<div class="verse">Of poet-lover.”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>And he’s right, there’s no doubt. But
+Cormac could not be expected to know that.</p>
+
+<p>What puzzled the young man, however,
+was this, that he felt happier, more uplifted,
+as he went away from Stangerd than he
+had known himself to be when he was with
+her. In her presence all the wicked feelings
+which beset mankind had been about him—rage,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span>greed, grudging, jealousy, and the
+rest of them. Her beauty had made his
+heart blacker; the more he needed her the
+less fit he felt himself to touch the border
+of her gown. But now he had left her, the
+clouds parted, and she shone dazzling like
+the sun in the blue sky. To love her was
+not only reasonable, but it was a career.
+It was food and drink, occupation and
+fame. It was a fire within him which would
+never go out—unless he saw her. Strange
+freak of fate that he could only love her
+when he didn’t see her!</p>
+
+<p>He was happier than he had been for a
+year or more. He began to sing again,
+naturally, like a bird.</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first">“Ah, now indeed I have her—now</div>
+<div class="verse">When I am leaving her for good.</div>
+<div class="verse">For good? Ah, yes, for now I know</div>
+<div class="verse">What Christians call their heavenly food.</div>
+<div class="verse">You see no flesh, you taste no blood,</div>
+<div class="verse">The holy flake shines like the snow;</div>
+<div class="verse">The sweet thin wine has the red flow,</div>
+<div class="verse">But not the salt that drencht the Rood.</div>
+<div class="indent">Now I have feasted as I would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span>  </div>
+<div class="verse">And go my way with a full heart:</div>
+<div class="verse">Stangerd and I shall never part</div>
+<div class="verse">If I can keep this holy mood.”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>And in this mood he remained for the rest
+of the day, finding himself strong enough
+to think of her without needing to see or
+to touch her.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning he found himself down
+on the lees again, and life a brackish flat
+business unless there was a hope of seeing
+Stangerd. But he fought with himself, and
+to such purpose that he set a day for sailing
+and kept to it.</p>
+
+<p>They all went aboard, men and horses,
+and headed for the Floe with a fair wind
+on their quarter. That was four or five days
+after he had seen Stangerd; but meantime
+Thorwald had taken her off to Fleet.</p>
+
+<p>He took her off the very next day, in
+fact, after his unceremonious meeting with
+Cormac in the entry of the house. He
+got the whole story out of Thorkel that
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span>night, and the more of it he got the less
+he liked it. It wasn’t so much that he
+shirked an encounter with Cormac, even
+though he was not much of a fighter. He
+explained to Thorkel how he felt about it.</p>
+
+<p>“Stangerd,” he said, “was very short
+with me after Cormac had been with her.
+No man cares to be thought tiresome. I
+am not at all accustomed to it; I have
+always been treated with respect. I am a
+weighty, sententious man, and I know it.
+But if these handsome, flashing poets get
+about a young woman, she is dazzled. She
+fills herself with their heady drink, their
+spiced food, and turns up her nose at the
+good roast or soused, at the good white
+bread or curdy cheese upon which the body
+is built up. It is so. I wish my wife to
+admire me. Is that so extraordinary? She
+will be happier if she can do it, and so shall
+I be. Now when I was talking to her about
+her Cormac, I noticed that little tricks of
+mine with the beard seemed to vex her.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span>I have an uncommon beard: it has often
+been noticed. But all she had to say of it
+was to ask me not to brush my nose with
+it. That was distressing. It can’t go on
+like this. Within the first few days of a
+man’s married life, to feel that a man is
+ridiculous in his wife’s eyes intimidates
+a man.”</p>
+
+<p>So he took her away to Fleet, a long way
+from Midfirth, where there is more open
+water; and there she began her housekeeping.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIV<br>
+<small>THE NIGHT IN THE WOOD</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">CORMAC’S ship <i>Raven</i> had a fair way
+over the Floe, and made Skaganess
+on one tack. But past the Ness they
+were as good as in the open sea; the wind
+freshened and blew from the south-east.
+They thought it well to stand inshore, and
+found smooth water at once, and plenty of
+it. Drängey showed up before the night
+fell, and as they were in strange waters,
+they decided to seek a haven there for the
+night. They found a good harbour with a
+sandy bottom on the west of the island
+and lay as snug as fish in the sea.</p>
+
+<p>Next day they crossed the frith and coasted
+up the further shore. The mountains come
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span>right down to the sea on that shore, and
+the lower slopes of them are covered with
+wood. Cormac sat on deck looking at this
+magic country of rocks and thin, grey stems.
+The sunlight was like mist between them,
+and above they were blushing with the
+rising sap.</p>
+
+<p>Then, on a sudden, as he looked his heart
+stood still. He saw a woman in a blue
+cloak riding through the trees. Her head
+was bare, and her hair shone like gold. He
+went white, and stared with his eyes. His
+lips moved, but no sound came from them.</p>
+
+<p>Then he called Thorgils his brother.
+“Thorgils,” he said, “yonder woman riding
+there is Stangerd. She is alone. Shape
+your course closer in, and be ready to cast
+anchor.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why,” said Thorgils, “what are you
+about?”</p>
+
+<p>“I am going to see Stangerd,” Cormac
+said.</p>
+
+<p>“And what then?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span>“I don’t know yet. We shall see.”</p>
+
+<p>“Will you make trouble for us and
+her?”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know. It will be to do that,
+or to end the trouble. Alter our course,
+I say.”</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils did as he was told. The water
+was as clear as glass on a bottom of hard,
+white sand. They stood to within a spear’s
+throw of the shore. Stangerd, if it was she,
+had seen the ship, and had reined up her
+grey horse in a clearing in the wood. She
+was looking at them. Thorgils now saw
+that it was Stangerd sure enough. They
+heaved the anchor overboard, and the <i>Raven</i>
+brought up, but before she was fast,
+Cormac was in the water to his middle.</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd did not move from where she
+was, but the light in her eyes answered the
+light in his, and her flushed face to his
+face.</p>
+
+<p>He came directly to her through the trees,
+and stood beside her. His hand rested on
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span>the horse’s mane, but he did not touch
+her.</p>
+
+<p>She spoke first. “You have come
+then.”</p>
+
+<p>“I saw you—so I came.”</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes engulfed him. But she was
+not smiling. She was too deeply satisfied
+for any outward sign. She consumed her
+happiness within. Nothing in her life had
+ever pleased her so much as this.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac said, “What is this? Where
+are you going? Do you live here? Where
+is your husband?”</p>
+
+<p>Then she laughed. “A string of questions!
+I live at Fleet, which is not far from here.
+I was lonely at home, so I came out.
+Thorwald is away, brushing his nose somewhere.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac said, “Let him be. We haven’t
+much time. But we have to-day.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are for Norway?” she asked him.
+His eyes were upon her.</p>
+
+<p>“I am for you at this hour—and the ship
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span>is fast. Come with me for a little. You
+are not afraid?”</p>
+
+<p>She said seriously, “No, I’m not afraid.
+I’ll walk with you.”</p>
+
+<p>He stood beside her, and took her down
+from the horse. When he had her in his
+arms he held her for a moment, and she made
+sure that he was going to kiss her. But he
+did not. He held her for a moment, and
+then put her down. Both of them were
+very red, and both out of breath. They
+began to walk slowly through the wood.
+Cormac led her horse.</p>
+
+<p>There was no wind. The sun was hot,
+and the sky blue. The sea lay glittering
+without a ripple. The ground was dry
+underfoot, and the stems of the birch-trees
+were silver-grey. It was good to be alive
+and young on such a day. Cormac and
+Stangerd walked slowly side by side, with
+very little to say, but each very conscious
+of the other. They spoke seldom, and in
+low voices. The hour of great desire seemed
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span>to be past. He did not talk of love to her;
+but great love was in everything he said
+and hushed every tone of his voice.</p>
+
+<p>At noon, being out of sight of the ship
+and, so far as could be seen, quite alone
+together in the world, they sat and shared
+some bread which Stangerd had with her.
+After that Stangerd said that she was
+sleepy, and lay down with her head on
+Cormac’s lap, and his cloak over her. He
+himself sat quite still, looking out over
+the sea, sometimes with great tenderness
+at her unconscious form gently stirring in
+sleep. He thought to himself that it would
+be very easy to suffer if she was always
+as innocent as that. When the evil
+moments came upon him, he said to himself,
+let him remember her as she lay there soft
+and pure, nothing but the most lovely thing
+in the world. Let him forget that she must
+lie in another man’s arms and put her arms
+round another man’s neck, and do him a
+wrong thereby. Even as he urged himself
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span>to forget that he remembered it, and felt
+his blood boil. He startled violently with
+the pain, and she awoke, and looked up,
+smiling lazily with her blue eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately he said to himself: “It is
+nothing, what she does with herself, or is
+done to. She is as incapable of wrong-doing
+as a tree or a flower. It is I who
+do wrong.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why did you wake me?” she asked
+him, and he said, “A serpent stung me,
+and I started. But I have killed it.”</p>
+
+<p>She laughed as she snuggled her cheek in
+her hand. “I don’t believe it. There are
+no serpents above ground in March.”</p>
+
+<p>“There are always serpents above ground
+when a man walks the world,” said Cormac.</p>
+
+<p>She thought of that for a while, and then
+she sat up and moved beside him, and took
+his arm. He would not look at her, but
+he listened acutely.</p>
+
+<p>“You are unhappy at leaving me?”
+she said.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span>He replied at once, “No, I am not.
+That is what is so bad about it. If I were
+leaving you enchanted in this wood, to
+sleep until I come back—in a year, in two
+or ten years—I should go without a thought
+or a look back. But it is because I am
+leaving you in the power of another man
+that I grieve and fret. Therefore I know
+that I love you not well. Therefore I know
+that I must leave you.”</p>
+
+<p>She lifted her eyebrows and opened her
+eyes wide. “Are all men like you? Do
+all men love women so?”</p>
+
+<p>“I believe that they do,” Cormac said:
+“but I don’t want to be like other men.
+I want to love you as I love the sky and
+the wind on the hill. You are as beautiful
+as they are—indeed, more beautiful, for
+they only represent parts of you. They
+are your eyes and your breath. But there’s
+your fragrance, and your gait, and the
+flame of your golden hair; there are your
+brows, your chin, your bosom, your hands.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[281]</span>And last of all, there is yourself, which
+makes men sing and go mad. When I
+first loved you I rejoiced in you; but afterwards
+I could not rejoice, because I wanted
+more than I could have. Sometimes I
+could have killed you for love, and that’s
+a terrible thing.”</p>
+
+<p>She said, “Yes, that is terrible; but I
+will tell you this now, Cormac—that there
+have been times when I have wished you
+to kill me with love. No other man has
+ever made me wish that.”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac gloomed and frowned over this
+saying, and did not speak for a time. Then
+he said, “Do women feel such things?
+Do they desire to give what a man desires
+to take? Is that possible?” He looked
+at Stangerd, but she had turned her head
+away, and when he touched her hand she
+moved it and got up.</p>
+
+<p>“We must go,” she said. The sun was
+down behind the mountains, the air was colder,
+and dusk had begun to haunt the wood.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[282]</span>But Cormac must be answered. He made
+her face him, he made her look at him.
+She did it, but a storm lay gathering behind
+her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“Stangerd,” he said, “it is not too late.”</p>
+
+<p>She flamed, she stamped her foot. “You
+fool,” she said fiercely, “it is too late. You
+have made me suffer horribly. I shall never
+forget it—and I will not forget it.”</p>
+
+<p>He shut his eyes, rocked about. “A curse
+is upon me. A moment ago and I was
+happy, loving you as I should. But now
+I feel the fire again.”</p>
+
+<p>She put her hand on his arm. “Let us
+go,” she said, “let us go. We have had
+a happy day.” She was quite close to
+him now, and put her face up to his as she
+spoke. She had no fear. He stooped and
+kissed her. His eyes were full of tears.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>Then they went to look for her horse;
+but he had strayed, and they could not
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[283]</span>find him. It grew dark quickly, and it
+was necessary to do something. “What
+shall we do?” said Cormac. They walked
+on in silence together, and by and by a
+light showed up out of a hollow where the
+hill ran sharply down to a river and the
+sea-level.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s a house down yonder,” Cormac
+said. “They will shelter us for the night.
+We had better go and ask them.”</p>
+
+<p>She agreed to that, and took his arm.
+The way was very steep, and it was almost
+dark. Soon they heard the roaring of a
+force, and could make out the roof-line of
+a small house. And then a dog barked
+sharply, and ran out to meet them—a black
+and white dog.</p>
+
+<p>A woman answered to their knocking,
+and asked them in. It was a poor house.
+She said that her sons were away at the
+fishing. There was room enough for them,
+but not much to eat.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s a good bed for you,” she said,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[284]</span>“for you can have mine. I’m a widow,
+worse luck!”</p>
+
+<p>Cormac said at once, “You must give
+us two beds, mother. This is my sister.”</p>
+
+<p>“You don’t favour each other much, by
+the looks of <i>you</i>,” she said. “You’re dark
+enough for an Irishman.”</p>
+
+<p>They ate her meal and dry fish and
+sat by the fire for a little, and then the
+woman came in and said that the beds were
+ready. They were side by side, but a wooden
+partition ran up between them to within
+a foot of the rafters. Cormac, who thought
+that he should be awake all night, went to
+sleep almost immediately. It was Stangerd
+who kept watch, and tossed and turned the
+better part of the night.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>In the morning Cormac got out of the house
+early and went up the hill to look for the
+horse. He found him without trouble, and
+brought him down to the farmhouse.
+Stangerd was waiting for him in the porch.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[285]</span>She wished him good-morning with a smile
+and kind eyes. He took her in his arms
+and kissed her. The woman of the house,
+who was stirring her oatmeal, sniffed. “I
+never saw a man kiss his sister like that,”
+she said to herself.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>They set out and climbed the hill into
+the woods. It was a fresh, mild morning of
+Spring, and the birds were busy everywhere
+at their nesting and courtship. The
+sea sparkled and the air quivered. Life
+was a good thing to look forward to, even
+if to look back was a bad thing.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac found his singing voice again.</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">O land where the sea-eagle hovers,</div>
+<div class="verse">O mountain-land and river flood.</div>
+<div class="verse">Here is the wonder of the wood,</div>
+<div class="verse">And here a tale of love and lovers.</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">What have I done? I’ve heard the note</div>
+<div class="verse">Thrill’d by the wood-bird in the dark;</div>
+<div class="verse">It set me soaring like a lark</div>
+<div class="verse">That on his own song seems afloat.</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">But what have I done? I was blind<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[286]</span></div>
+<div class="verse">That thought I saw a fair maid pass</div>
+<div class="verse">And stroke my cheek. That was no lass,</div>
+<div class="verse">That spirit of the wandering wind.</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">What have I done? O silly hands,</div>
+<div class="verse">That thought to hold and starve the fire,</div>
+<div class="verse">And teach it leap to your desire</div>
+<div class="verse">And burn within your puny bands!</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">What have I done, but love too high?</div>
+<div class="verse">What have I done, but fall too far?</div>
+<div class="verse">I set my longing on a star,</div>
+<div class="verse">And there it burns, and here I lie.</div>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>And then he changed the time, and his
+voice had a jarring sound here and there,
+though the words were tender. Whiles, it
+croaked like a June nightingale’s.</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="verse">Of Stangerd and her beauty, now,</div>
+<div class="verse">What shall I sing? Was she in sooth</div>
+<div class="verse">The Spirit few see but some may know,</div>
+<div class="verse">Even as believ’d an ardent youth:</div>
+<div class="verse">The Essence at the heart of things,</div>
+<div class="verse">Which makes them things? substantial truth?</div>
+<div class="verse">The secret rose of loveliness,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[287]</span>  </div>
+<div class="verse">The very flicker in the wings</div>
+<div class="verse">Of birds, the thrill of sweet distress</div>
+<div class="verse">You get at heart, when a bird sings</div>
+<div class="verse">At night? The fragrance, hue, impress,</div>
+<div class="verse">The very life within the dress</div>
+<div class="verse">That bodies beauty? Was all this</div>
+<div class="verse">Chance-held in Stangerd’s blossomings</div>
+<div class="verse">For Cormac’s vision and his bliss?</div>
+<div class="verse">Was she so rare or he so tender?</div>
+<div class="verse">He found her so by hit or miss.</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>There he stopped, and reined up
+the grey horse. He put his hand upon
+Stangerd’s knee, and held her eyes with
+his eyes while he sang again his last
+song.</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="indent2">And so he paid for his lachess,</div>
+<div class="verse">Or, if you please, his soul-surrender;</div>
+<div class="verse">For plain men saw—a piece of goods,</div>
+<div class="verse">Just a fine girl, for all her splendour</div>
+<div class="verse">Of form and favour, made of moods</div>
+<div class="verse">And whim and hearty appetite,</div>
+<div class="verse">Who liked her supper and was clear</div>
+<div class="verse">What was and what was not her right.</div>
+<div class="verse">And so two took her for delight,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[288]</span></div>
+<div class="verse">And serv’d them of her aptitude</div>
+<div class="verse">For work by day and play by night,</div>
+<div class="verse">And found all well, and made good cheer;</div>
+<div class="verse">And when their turn came round she dight</div>
+<div class="verse">Their burial-clouts——</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>He stopped again abruptly, for he saw
+that Stangerd was crying.</p>
+
+<p>“Shame upon me!” he said; “my love,
+forgive me, and let me go.”</p>
+
+<p>She spoke through her tears. “You don’t
+know—you don’t know women. I am glad
+all men are not like you, because then all
+women would be as miserable as I am.”</p>
+
+<p>He strained up to take her, but she would
+not let him. After a while she dried her
+eyes and spoke to him again.</p>
+
+<p>“Go now,” she said. “There is your
+ship, and my way lies yonder.”</p>
+
+<p>Far below them, truly enough, the <i>Raven</i>
+lay swaying at her anchor. Beyond the
+Ness the sea sparkled and crisped.</p>
+
+<p>Stangerd stooped from her saddle and
+met Cormac’s clouded face. Their lips met
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[289]</span>and stayed together for a while. Then she
+said good-bye and turned and rode through
+the wood. She had no tears in her eyes now,
+and carried her head high. The fire showed
+on her cheek-bones. She did not hurry her
+horse, but kept at a walking pace through
+the wood, and out on to the heath. Presently
+she saw Thorwald’s house-stead in
+the hollow of the hills. It looked grey in
+the shadow, for at this time of the year it
+did not get the sun till noon.</p>
+
+<p>She rode down the hill and through the
+meadows to the garth. Her husband stood,
+a portly man, in the doorway, brushing his
+nose with his fine golden beard.</p>
+
+<p>“I am glad to see you, wife,” he said.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[290]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXV<br>
+<small>THE END OF IT</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">THEY say that Cormac set sail in the
+<i>Raven</i> before noon of the day when
+he said good-bye to Stangerd. And they
+say that when he was in the open sea,
+clearing Grimsey, which is the most northerly
+of the islands, he saw a sea-beast of grey
+colour in the sea upon the port bow. He
+had a spear in his hand, and, as the beast
+swirled up alongside the ship, he threw
+the spear and pierced her side. She rolled
+over, and he saw her dead blue eyes and
+broad, expressionless face. He said to his
+brother Thorgils, “That was the face of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[291]</span>Thorveig the spae-wife, who set a curse upon
+me. If she is dead now? What had I
+best do?”</p>
+
+<p>Thorgils said, “There’s no going back
+now.”</p>
+
+<p>“There’s no going back at all, in my
+belief,” Cormac said.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>It is true that just about then Thorveig
+the spae-wife did die; but Cormac did
+not go back, and I believe he never saw
+Stangerd again, though he never forgot her,
+and died at last with her name in his
+mouth. He served the Kings of Norway
+for many years; became a great Viking;
+was known in Ireland and Scotland. They
+say, indeed, that he made a settlement
+for himself at Scarborough in England;
+but I don’t know how that may be.
+So far as I am concerned, I have done
+with him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[292]</span>As is the case with all good tales, there
+are more sides than one to Cormac’s. Was
+he cursed by the spae-wife, or by his own
+nature? Did he well by Stangerd, or ill?
+Was the poet right who said that when
+one of his kind loves a woman, the woman
+will be sorry for it?</p>
+
+<p>The same poet, who is not Cormac, closes
+his version of the story upon a note which
+can be variously interpreted.</p>
+
+<p>He says:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="indent2">So much for Cormac. And what <i>she</i> gain’d</div>
+<div class="verse">Of her wild lover, or how suffer’d</div>
+<div class="verse">To have her well of sweetness drain’d</div>
+<div class="verse">By one or other as he offered—</div>
+<div class="verse">She was a woman and, men think,</div>
+<div class="verse">Rewarded; for they crav’d, she proffer’d;</div>
+<div class="verse">They thirsted and she gave them drink.</div>
+<div class="verse">They dipt their cups for what she coffer’d,</div>
+<div class="verse">And if they needed, should she shrink</div>
+<div class="verse">Lest she might come to want? Their thriving</div>
+<div class="verse">Was hers, we say—without a wink,</div>
+<div class="verse">Because we mean it. She got by giving.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[293]</span></div>
+<div class="verse">For giving man life is her living.</div>
+<div class="verse">At least, that’s man’s serene persuasion.</div>
+<div class="verse">He calls it her re-generation.</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Now that’s all very well; but—I should
+like to have Stanvor Slimlegs’ opinion more
+than anyone’s.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[294]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">NOTE</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">TWO English versions of this tale are
+known to me, both literal translations
+of the Saga as it now stands. One of them, the
+more critical and crabbed of the pair, is to be
+found in the second volume of York Powell’s
+and Vigfussen’s <i>Origines Islandicæ</i>; the other,
+which includes a good deal omitted in the
+first, and is a more genial work altogether,
+if not so correct, is by Messieurs W. G.
+Collingwood and Jón Stefánsson, and was
+published at Ulverston, in Lancashire, in
+1902. It is embellished with charming
+landscapes of the places named in the tale.
+Both of these versions have been useful
+to me, and I hereby express my obligations
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[295]</span>to their learned authors; but both of them
+render Cormac’s tale exactly as it now
+exists, with all its joints loose, and some
+missing, with an abrupt beginning, no middle,
+and no end. My business with it has been
+to make it accountable, and relate part to
+part; for as it stands it is not reasonable;
+its parts don’t cohere; it seems to lack
+human nature and that logic of events which
+only a study of human nature can give.
+Those must have been in the tale once,
+but they are not there now, and I have
+tried to put them back again. We are apt
+to stumble upon the discrepancies in old
+stories, to put them down to outlandish
+customs, or outmoded ones, or the vagaries
+of the romancer, and to slur them over.
+But it’s not the way to get the good out
+of a good tale to say: “To be sure, it
+might be better, but let’s get on....”
+Human nature knows neither time nor
+place, has been very much the same in
+Odin’s day and in Christ’s, is very much
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[296]</span>the same in Iceland and in England, and
+in all the countries I ever heard of or saw.
+Reading closely into Cormac’s tale, I find
+it quite reasonable and full of human nature
+as we know it now.</p>
+
+<p>Cormac was a poet, so much the better
+or so much the worse than other poets
+before him or since in that he didn’t know
+it, or at any rate didn’t know what his
+<i>poiesis</i> involved. He didn’t know when he
+began, but he had an inkling before he had
+done. Men of his sort, who joy in the
+thought rather than the deed, and see beauty
+the better the less they handle it, have
+flourished in the world at all ages of it—in
+the days of Paris,&#x2060;<a id="FNanchor_A_1" href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> who did basely, in the
+days of Dante, who did sublimely, and in
+our own, when thinking and doing alike
+are going out of fashion in favour of talking
+about one or the other. Therefore, according
+to me, there is sound human nature in the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[297]</span>tale of Cormac’s preposterous love-making,
+and no less in the account of the lovely
+Stangerd whom he so long and squeamishly
+beset. As for old Berse of the many
+battles, he is a man of men, and deserves
+a saga all to himself. He had one once,
+but it has perisht.</p>
+
+<p class="right">M. H.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_A_1" href="#FNanchor_A_1" class="label">[A]</a> This may seem a hard saying, yet I am very sure that Paris
+had more joy in considering Helen’s beauty than in consuming it.</p></div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="ph2"><span class="smcap">Books by Maurice Hewlett</span></p>
+
+<p class="ph1">PUBLISHED by CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS</p>
+
+
+<p class="ph3">Bendish</p>
+<p class="ph1">A Study in Prodigality<br>
+  12mo. <span class="gap">      $1.35 net</span></p>
+
+<p>A colorful novel of England in the early nineteenth
+century.</p>
+
+
+<p class="ph3">Open Country</p>
+<p class="ph1">A Comedy with a Sting<br>
+  12mo. <span class="gap">    $1.35 net</span></p>
+
+<p>“It is finished in its sensitive miniatures of women.
+Above everything, it has a gleam of unforgettable
+romance.”—<i>Chicago Post.</i></p>
+
+
+<p class="ph3">Halfway House</p>
+<p class="ph1">A Comedy of Degrees<br>
+  12mo. <span class="gap">     $1.35 net</span></p>
+
+<p>“It is a thing of action, and the action is true to
+human nature.”—<i>New York Tribune.</i></p>
+
+
+<p class="ph3">Rest Harrow</p>
+<p class="ph1">Illustrated. <span class="gap">     12mo. </span> <span class="gap">    $1.35 net</span></p>
+
+<p>Brings to a close the romance of Senhouse and
+Sanchia of “Open Country” and “Halfway
+House.”</p>
+
+
+<p class="ph3">Letters to Sanchia</p>
+<p class="ph1">12mo.<span class="gap">      90 cents net</span></p>
+
+<p>Letters written by Senhouse to Sanchia.</p>
+
+
+<p class="ph3">The Song of Renny</p>
+<p class="ph1">12mo. <span class="gap">     $1.35 net</span></p>
+
+<p>“He has taken us back again to the mystery and
+romance of mediæval days.”—<i>Boston Herald.</i></p>
+
+
+<p class="ph3">The Forest Lovers</p>
+<p class="ph1">A Romance<br>
+  12mo.  <span class="gap">    $1.35 net</span></p>
+
+<p>“The book is a joy to read and to remember—a source
+of clean, pure delight.”—<i>The Dial.</i></p>
+
+
+<p class="ph3">The Life and Death of Richard Yea and Nay</p>
+<p class="ph1">12mo.<span class="gap">      $1.35 net</span></p>
+
+<p>“We have to thank Mr. Hewlett for a most beautiful
+and fascinating picture of a glorious time.”—<i>London
+Chronicle.</i></p>
+
+
+<p class="ph3">The Queen’s Quair</p>
+<p class="ph1">12mo.  <span class="gap">    $1.35 net</span></p>
+
+<p>“That Mr. Maurice Hewlett would give us a flaming,
+wonderful picture of Queen Mary was a foregone conclusion....
+No portrait has been so vivid, so true in
+its unblushing realism, and so instinct with sensuous
+grace as that which Mr. Hewlett has painted for us.”—<i>Westminster
+Gazette.</i></p>
+
+
+<p class="ph3">Lore of Proserpine</p>
+<p class="ph1">12mo. <span class="gap">     $1.35 net</span></p>
+
+<p>Some of these papers are almost directly biographical;
+others, fairy stories for grown-ups perhaps,
+present the world as the author sees it, or
+life as he understands it.</p>
+
+
+<p class="ph3">Little Novels of Italy</p>
+<p class="ph1">12mo.  <span class="gap">    $1.35 net</span></p>
+
+<p>“The most finished studies which have appeared since
+the essays of Walter Pater.”—<i>London Daily Telegraph.</i></p>
+
+<p>“The stories are so true to their locality that they read
+almost like translations.”—<i>New York Times.</i></p>
+
+
+<p class="ph3">Brazenhead the Great</p>
+<p class="ph1">12mo. <span class="gap">     $1.35 net</span></p>
+
+<p>“If you love a picturesque character you will love the
+Captain, as a friend, no matter how virtuous you may
+be. The Captain had the big qualities. He seems like
+a distant relative of the great, adorable rogues Barry
+Lyndon, Harry Richmond, and Cellini.”—<i>New
+York Evening Sun.</i></p>
+
+
+<p class="ph3">New Canterbury Tales</p>
+<p class="ph1">12mo. <span class="gap">     $1.35 net</span></p>
+
+<p>“The stories are mediæval to the very core and show
+extraordinary perception of the inner life of a distant
+and alien age.”—<i>The Outlook.</i></p>
+
+
+<p class="ph3">The Fool Errant</p>
+<p class="ph1">12mo.  <span class="gap">    $1.35 net</span></p>
+
+<p>“Nothing else quite so good in its own way has come
+to us since Charles Reade wrote the ‘Cloister and the
+Hearth.’”—<i>Philadelphia Ledger.</i></p>
+
+
+<p class="ph3">The Road in Tuscany</p>
+<p class="ph1">A Commentary<br>
+  2 Volumes.   <span class="gap">   8vo.    </span><span class="gap">  $6.00 net</span></p>
+
+<p>“Every one who wishes to have an English library of
+books of and on Italy should have this frank and
+charming comment upon Tuscany.”—<i>Chicago
+Tribune.</i></p>
+
+
+<p class="ph3">Earthwork Out of Tuscany</p>
+<p class="ph1">Being Impressions and Translations<br>
+  12mo.  <span class="gap">    $2.00 net</span></p>
+
+<p>“Written with the lightness, the delicacy, the felicity
+of the painter whose colors are words fitly chosen.”—<i>San
+Francisco Argonaut.</i></p>
+
+<hr class="tiny">
+<p class="ph3">CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS<br>
+<small>FIFTH AVENUE AT 48TH STREET, NEW YORK</small></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+<div class="transnote">
+<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p>
+
+<p>Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.</p>
+
+<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p>
+
+<p>Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.</p>
+</div></div>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78969 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/78969-h/images/cover.jpg b/78969-h/images/cover.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..96576bc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/78969-h/images/cover.jpg
diff --git a/78969-h/images/coversmall.jpg b/78969-h/images/coversmall.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4556362
--- /dev/null
+++ b/78969-h/images/coversmall.jpg
diff --git a/78969-h/images/i_001.jpg b/78969-h/images/i_001.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..51a4155
--- /dev/null
+++ b/78969-h/images/i_001.jpg
diff --git a/78969-h/images/titlepage.jpg b/78969-h/images/titlepage.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4b3d179
--- /dev/null
+++ b/78969-h/images/titlepage.jpg
diff --git a/78969-h/images/verso.jpg b/78969-h/images/verso.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..39b10c5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/78969-h/images/verso.jpg
author	www-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org>	2026-06-27 21:13:56 -0700
committer	www-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org>	2026-06-27 21:13:56 -0700
commit	d841ac672b74c4b5f8238278103eb231880e8ab8 (patch)
tree	d1c2035fdd1f9c589c4f168d50d3a4c2fd2de6fe /78969-h