Suddenly, even as the echo of the shout died away, and while the weapons were yet upraised, the thick cloud of smoke rolled back and down, wrapping round Ingvar the godar as he stood between shrine and altar, and across the reek glared the sightless eyes of the idol again, cold and heedless.
Now of all omens that was the worst, for it must needs betoken that the sacrifice was not pleasing; and at that a low groan as of fear went round the host. Then back started Ingvar, and I saw his face through the smoke, looking white as ashes. For a long time, as it seemed to me, there was silence, until the smoke rose up straight again and was lost in the treetops. Even the ravens, scared maybe by the great shout, were gone, and all was very still.
At last Ingvar turned slowly to us and faced our crew.
"The sacrifice is yours," he said, "and if it is not accepted the fault is yours also. We are clear of blame who have bided at home."
Then Halfden answered for his men and himself:
"I know not what blame is to us."
But from close behind me Rorik lifted his voice:
"No blame to the crew--but here is one, a stranger, who does no honour to the gods, neither lifting sword or hailing them as is right, even before Thor's image."
Then I knew that the worst was come, and prepared to meet it. But Halfden spoke.
"All men's customs are not alike, and a stranger has his own ways."