"Fall not, Thora!" cried Halfred upwards.
Then, as though lightning struck, swift as an arrow, with a wild shriek, she fell downwards from the giddy height of the mast.
The white forehead struck upon the deck, her head and golden hair were bathed in blood.
"Thora! Thora!" cried Halfred, and raised her up, and looked into her eyes. Then he fell senseless with her upon his face among the flowers--for she was dead.
[CHAPTER XV.]
When Halfred raised himself again--he had already long since recovered consciousness, but not the power to rise--the sun was fast going down.
He called the six seamen, who had held themselves shyly aloof in the stern and lower deck, and spoke, but his voice, he himself told me, sounded strange to him like that of another person.
"She is dead. Slain for the sins of others.
"There are no Gods.
"Were there Gods I must have dashed out the brains of all of them, one by one, with this hammer.