Haasten had been sitting in silence, watching the boy. Then he said suddenly: "He must have been born soon after that winter."
"The winter after," Ingolf answered, a little curtly.
"He bears Thor's name and mine," Haasten continued thoughtfully. "May that bring him good luck!"
He was silent a short time. Then he asked: "But who is the woman?"
"My sister, Helga," answered Ingolf quietly. The two friends sat silent a long time.
Then Haasten beckoned to the boy, and when he came he took him between his knees, and looked closely at him. "You have honest, intelligent eyes; you will be a brave man," he said at last, and stroked his fair hair. Then he took a heavy gold ring off his arm and gave it to Thorsten.
"That is because you are in some part my name-sake," he explained, smiling at the boy, who stood with the ring in his hand, staring alternately at gift and giver. Thorsten tried the ring on his slender arm. "It is too large," he declared, a little offended. Then he suddenly brightened up. "But it will fit me well enough by the time father is dead, and I sit in the high-seat."
Both Ingolf and Haasten laughed. Thorsten went to show Helga and his mother the ring. Then silence came over the two friends. Shortly after, Ingolf proposed that they should drink to their dead brother. The friends' glances met over the rim of the drinking-horns. There were tears in their eyes.
They sat late that night and drank and talked together. They were very happy to sit side by side again. The solitude which had threatened to imprison each severally was suddenly banished. Now they had each other again, and felt the joy of friendship.