"Cousin, be reasonable now," he begged persuasively. But to be overcome in such a purely physical way had been too much for Leif. He struggled hopelessly to get one arm loose, and when he did not succeed he hissed with suppressed rage: "I could kill you!" Ingolf let him go at once and sprang up. But Leif did not do the same, as he had expected. He had discharged his emotions now and had given up. He remained lying with his eyes closed, while the shame scorched and burnt in his soul.
Ingolf stood for a little while looking at him. He felt the wrath lurking in ambush within himself, and bravely fought with it. "What have I done?" he asked at last quietly.
Leif did not answer, but remained lying there, quiet and motionless, with closed eyes. Within himself he was silently and hopelessly wondering how he should set about opening his eyes and rising. Ingolf stood looking at him. He began gradually to understand him, and to enter into his feelings. Leif had madly set himself against the gods. But what was the use of so attacking him, he would like to know? Well, Leif had his peculiarities in everything. Now he lay there and was ashamed, and could not bring himself to open his eyes. The best thing was to give him a little time to collect himself. Ingolf remained standing awhile and waited. "Come now, Leif!" he urged, in a friendly tone, and Leif rose. Slowly he collected himself and got on his legs. Ingolf stood and looked at him with curiosity. His features were relaxed, and his eyes were dull and troubled.
"What was the matter with you?" asked Ingolf earnestly, and could not suppress a little laugh.
Leif stood a short while without answering, as though searching his memory for something he had forgotten. "You needn't trouble yourself about it," he answered in a weary and rather shy tone, but not without a certain defiance. "It was not you I hated, but your gods."
"So it was not very strange you could not win, cousin," answered Ingolf cheerfully. "You are still too slight of build to fight with the gods."
"I shall not go with you to a feast any more," answered Leif, unaffected by Ingolf's cheerfulness. "This once I may be allowed to say it, and I beg you not to forget it. Your gods and your worship of them are an abomination to me, and will always be so. Even if it should lose me my brother, I must say it."
There was a smothered warmth in Leif's words which made Ingolf serious.
"It is just with you, as you are, that I wish to enter into brotherhood, Leif," he answered quietly. "Your relation to the gods is a matter between you and them. What you think of my worship of them is your own affair. But I am anxious that you should understand that I belong with all my soul and will to the gods. They were my fathers' gods; if I were false to them, I should be false to my fathers. Rather would I this very moment sacrifice myself to Odin than that that should happen."