"We have a saying that the king loves a guest who loves his cheer," replied Thorar with a smile.
"Know you one of an old man," Estein asked, "and—but I forget it—something of a maiden too? I saw it somewhere written in Runes."
In obedience to an indefinable instinct, he had said nothing of the token to Helgi, and his foster-brother looked at him in surprise. The mention of the Runes brought no look of recognition to Thorar's face. With his grave smile he answered,—
"There are many sayings concerning maids, and some concerning old men; also, if I mistake not, one or two about young men and maids."
"Spare Estein those last," cried Helgi lightly. "He thinks himself old, and never gives maids a thought at all."
Evidently Thorar knew nothing of the message, and Estein became silent again.
They were gradually approaching a dark forest, which stretched from the edge of the lake inland, and latish in the afternoon they entered it by a narrow, rutty road. Darkness closed in fast as they wound their way through the wood. The air grew colder and colder, till their hands and faces tingled with the frost. Silence fell upon them, and for some time nothing could be heard but the occasional clash of steel and the continual creaking of snow and breaking of dead branches under foot. Then a hum of voices came to them fitfully, and at last the path opened into a wide glade.
"We are almost there," said Thorar. "Smile not, Estein, at our rude hospitality; or, if you do, let our welcome make amends."
A young moon had just risen above the trees, and by its pale light they saw a small village at the end of the glade. Many lights flashed, and a babel of voices chattered and shouted as they approached.
"All King Bue's men have not fled, it seems," Helgi said in a low voice.