Helga did not go out of the shadow and down to the ship. She saw the crew working with the long boat-hooks and pushing the landing-plank out over the ship's side. She could just catch a glimpse of a man who went down it. And then came Leif running. How like him it was. When he was right opposite her, she went forward to meet him. Leif started, stopped, and stood. All his impetuosity ceased.
"Could you not see me?" asked Helga, with a smile that quivered. She felt so rich and happy, and came gradually nearer. Leif was not in a condition to answer or to say a word at all. He stood there, and that was all he could do. He could not even collect himself and kiss her. Helga came slowly close up to him and laid her arms quietly round his neck. They drank a long kiss from each other's mouths till their lips were sore.
Leif wished to say something, but there was a lump in his throat. When he discovered that, he began to weep. Helga smiled and kissed him more fervently. Her fearless Viking was only a long, ungainly boy who wept. He stood and embraced Helga violently but helplessly, and tears ran down his freckled, weather-tanned cheeks. Helga turned gently in his embrace. He thought she wished to be released, and let her go. But Helga did not wish to be out of his arms. She only wished to turn so that they might walk side by side. She did not wish that any one should find them there, and led him away. She wanted to have him for herself now that she had at last got him again after an endless summer. And Leif let her have her way; he had forgotten everything else except that he had her again.
They did not talk much. Only some hasty questions and quiet, hasty answers were exchanged between them. They had, as it were, no time for more talk. There was silence between them—a good and happy silence. They had each other.
In the house there was great excitement. Morning broke on an apparently hopeless confusion of men and women, who chatted together, kissed, or only sent each other embarrassed and happy glances. There were also children of all ages who jumped and sang and quarrelled together in little private combats, and men who carried loads from the ships to the house, and sauntered back again in knots, talking vigourously.
Ingolf went quietly to and fro and saw that the work was done. The ships had to be unloaded and the goods carried home to the house, and it was best to get it done soon. At this time of year the weather and the sea were not to be relied upon. Ingolf felt a sense of happiness and confidence at being home again. He relaxed a little the strict discipline which he generally maintained in all work, and granted each man sufficient time for embracing friends and for confidential talk. But if any one did not go to work of his own accord, when a reasonable time had passed, he called him by name in a friendly way and aroused him. No more was needed. The work went on vigourously. The men wanted it done as soon as possible. Ingolf had promised them a few days' holiday when the goods were in the house and the ships in the sheds.
Orn came out, bent and aged, blinking with inflamed eyes in the garish light of morning. He gave such an immense yawn that his shaggy jaws cracked and shivered, chilled by the cold autumnal air. Old age had come upon him, bent his back, and gnawed the flesh from his limbs. When Ingolf saw him, he hastened to him. Now that he saw him again, after not having had him daily before his eyes for several months, he suddenly realized how old and decrepit his father had actually become, and was seized by a strong feeling of sympathy. He whispered something as he passed in a man's ear. The man smiled and nodded, and ran down to the ships. Then Ingolf hastened to his father and greeted him with reverence and tenderness.
The old man was always on his guard against too much friendliness. Old age had increased his mistrust of people. He was peevish and gruff. He returned his son's greeting very nonchalantly, and began with noticeable haste to question him concerning purely practical matters. Had he all the ships with him? How much had he allowed himself to be cheated? He had not, it was to be hoped, brought an Irish wife home with him? How many of his men had fallen? He had probably nothing creditable to report?
It seemed to Ingolf that his voice had become remarkably high-pitched and strident.