"What do ye here my blood brethren?" said Halfred, softly--for he thought of Thora--and was more amazed than angry. "Are ye mad, or have ye grown faithless."
For a while all were silent, startled at Halfred's sudden appearance, whom they had believed to be sleeping soundly by Thora's side. But Hartvik recovered and spoke--
"It is not we who are mad, or have grown faithless, but thou, our unhappy brother, under magic spell. We would have accomplished what must be done without it being possible for thee to hinder it. Thou shouldst only have trodden the deck again, when, against thine own will, thou wert restored to health.
"Now, however, since thou hast too soon learnt this, hear what we, thy blood brethren and the most of those on board, assembled in ship's council, last night resolved--resolved for thy weal, although many opposed it, and would first have spoken with thee. Submit thyself peaceably, for it is unalterable as the course of the stars, and although thou art very strong, Halfred Hamundson, bethink thee, thou art weaponless, and we are seventy."
Halfred was silent. Fearfully swelled his temple veins; but he thought of Thora. "She sleeps," he whispered. "Say softly what ye have to say. I listen."
"Halfred, our dear blood brother," continued Hartvik softly. "Thou liest spell bound in the toils of a woman who--I will verily not revile her, for I love her more ardently than my own heart's blood--whatever she may be, a mortal woman undoubtedly is not.
"Here works one of the strongest spells which ever witchcraft wove, and ever befooled the senses of men.
"I blame her not as do many of our comrades.
"She can do no otherwise. This is her very nature.
"She is in truth an Elfin woman, or what the Irish call their white half Goddesses.