"You should now look with more favour on the Viking's skull as being that of your great forefather. His object in coming down the staircase last night was evidently to introduce himself to you, his youngest descendant.—But I have interrupted your reading, for which I beg pardon. May I ask the title of your book?"
"Longfellow's 'Saga of King Olaf.' You have read it?"
"No: but a Norse saga in verse is, by its very nature, certain to interest me. Will you not read aloud, Miss Ravengar?"
There is little Beatrice would not have done to please Idris, and accordingly she began the reading of the poem. Her voice was clear and silvery, and marked at times by a cadence, plaintive and pretty. Idris would have fared ill had he been required to give a summary of the poem, for he paid little attention to the words, finding a greater charm in the face and voice of the reader. More than once the thought stole over him that if he had not seen Mademoiselle Rivière his love might have found its resting-place in Beatrice.
Reading smoothly onward Beatrice came to the scene in which the reluctant bride Gudrun, on her wedding-night, draws near to the couch of Olaf, dagger in hand and murder in her heart.
"'What is that,' King Olaf said,
'Gleams so bright above thy head?
Wherefore standest thou so white
In pale moonlight?'
"''Tis the bodkin that I wear