"Who art thou?" said Estein in a low voice, coming forward a step as he spoke, and holding his sword ready to smite on the instant.
"Estein Hakonson," replied the other in the same tone, "waste not your blows on friends. Remember the Runes, and follow me. There is little time for words now."
He turned as he spoke, and looking over his shoulder to see that
Estein followed him, started for the stockade. For an instant
Estein hesitated.
"Are you mad?" exclaimed the man; "or do you wish to die here like a dog?"
"Lead on," replied Estein, and still holding his naked sword he followed him across the court.
The man went swiftly up to the paling, and taking an axe from under his cloak drove it hard into the wood as high above his head as he could reach. Then with the agility of a cat he drew himself up by it, seized the top of the fence, and sat there astride.
"Quick! quick!" he whispered. "Sheathe that sword, and stand not like a fool looking at me."
Estein, though a much heavier man, was active and lithe, and his guide, as he watched him mount, muttered,—
"That is better; we have a chance yet."
They dropped on the other side, and whispering to Estein to follow, the man turned to the wood and was about to plunge in, when his companion seized his arm, and said,—