“Nurse,” said Torfrida to the old Lapp woman, when they were alone, “find out for me what is the name of this strange champion, and what he has beneath his beard.”
“Beneath his beard?”
“Some scar, I suppose, or secret mark. I must know. You will find out for your Torfrida, will you not, nurse?”
“I will make a charm that will bring him to you, were all the icebergs of Quenland between you and him: and then you can see for yourself.”
“No, no, no! not yet, nurse!” and Torfrida smiled. “Only find me out that one thing: that I must know.”
And yet why she wanted to know, she could not tell herself.
The old woman came back to her, ere she went to bed.
“I have found it out all, and more. I know where to get scarlet toadstools, and I put the juice in his men’s ale: they are laughing and roaring now, merry-mad every one of them.”
“But not he?”
“No, no. He is with the Marquis. But in madness comes out truth; and that long hook-nosed body-varlet of his has told us all.”