"Let us return to Arcona!" said Thorolf Starkadder.
"For what purpose, fool?" asked the earl, gruffly.
"To destroy the temple of Svantavit, hang the false priest, and burn his idol."
"Nay," said Morrar na Shean, grinding his teeth. "I shall take other vengeance upon fate, for fate has conspired against me."
"How—how?" asked his followers.
"Anon, ye shall hear!"
"Shall we not see?" asked Thorolf, grimly, for he was a lover of mischief and cruelty.
"No," replied Morrar, briefly, as he gnawed his yellow moustaches in wrath.