“The beast sees what we cannot see,” whispered Palka in explanation.
At last we halted, and I set down the jars at her bidding upon a flat rock which she called the Table of Offerings.
“See!” she exclaimed to Martina, “those that were placed here three days ago are all emptied and neatly piled together by the ghosts. I told Hodur that they did this, but he would not believe me. Now let us pack them up in the baskets and begone, for the sun sets and the moon rises within the half of an hour. I would not be here in the dark for ten pieces of pure gold.”
“Then go swiftly, Palka,” I said, “for we bide here this night.”
“Are you mad?” she asked.
“Not at all,” I answered. “A wise man once told me that if one who is blind can but come face to face with a spirit, he sees it and thereby regains his sight. If you would know the truth, that is why I have wandered so far from my own country to find some land where ghosts may be met.”
“Now I am sure that you are mad,” exclaimed Palka. “Come, Hilda, and leave this fool to make trial of his cure for blindness.”
“Nay,” answered Martina, “I must stay with my uncle, although I am very much afraid. If I did not, he would beat me afterwards.”
“Beat you! Hodur beat a woman! Oh! you are both mad. Or perhaps you are ghosts also. I have thought it once or twice, who at least am sure that you are other than you seem. Holy Jesus! this place grows dark, and I tell you it is full of dead kings. May the Saints guard you; at the least, you’ll keep high company at your death. Farewell; whate’er befalls, blame me not who warned you,” and she departed at a run, the empty vessels rattling on her back and the dog yapping behind her.
When she had gone the silence grew deep.