"I and mine have never hurt Christian folk, father," I said, knowing what he meant.
The sword and fire had fallen heavily on the Scottish islands when the Norseman first came thither. But surely he could not mind that.
Thereafter Phelim told me that he thought the old man spoke of the burning of some monastery on the mainland of Scotland, whence he had fled, with those of his brethren who escaped, to Ireland, coming hither at last to end his days in peace. But I heard no more from himself now. What I had just spoken turned his thoughts afresh, and I was glad.
"Then you are a heathen; and this lady also?"
"We are Odin's folk," I answered. "I suppose that is what you mean, father."
"Yet I think now that I saw you once in the chapel."
"You may do so again, father, if it is permitted by you. I have heard naught but good words there."
His eyes brightened, and he smiled at me.
"You know nothing of the faith then?" he asked.
I shook my head. I had heard never a word of it until I met my friends.