The Viking's Skull

by John R. Carling

"The green hill-tomb rises high in sunny air, and close by murmurs the voice of the restless sea. The dead warrior is laid upon an altar of wood. Many persons stand around. A fair-haired boy touches the pile with a flaming torch. As he does so, a shout goes up to the sky."

Though Beatrice's utterances were not marked by any rhythmic measure, she nevertheless began to intone them to an air, which Idris immediately recognized as the Ravengar Funeral March, the requiem that had made so strange an impression upon him when played by Lorelie upon the organ of St. Oswald's Church.

"See the gleam of lifted lance and shield! Hark to the wailing of the women, as they beat their breasts and rend their tresses for the death of their great chief! List to the warriors, as they clash their brazen bucklers with clanging sword-strokes! Now rises the wild barbaric song of the long-haired scald, hymning to his harp the heroic deeds of the dead, and chanting the dirge that shall never be forgotten by the Raven-race. Upward mount the flames of the pyre. See how the maddened raven, tied to the fagot with silken thread, flaps his wings and screams with terror, pecking at the bond that holds him. The volumed smoke hides him from view: the fire severs the thread: now he soars heavenward, bearing the soul of the warrior to Valhalla. The fire burns long, glowing in the breath of the breeze. Now it fades: glimmers: and dies out. The lady draws near with the urn: within it are reverently placed the ashes of the dead."

Beatrice ceased her intonation, and continued in a quieter tone.

"It is a square place, built of stone. Men are moving about. Some carry torches. Others are decking the walls with tapestry, hanging it from a metal rod. There is a stone receptacle in the centre. The dark-haired lady places the urn within this, and retires. The lights vanish. All is silence and darkness—silence and darkness."

It was clear that Beatrice had been describing the incidents attending the death and burial of Orm. Her account had cleared up one mystery. The contents of the urn were nothing less than the ashes of the old Viking, the ancestral dust from which Beatrice herself had sprung! This completely answered the question as to what had become of his remains, and furnished additional proof that the skeleton in the sarcophagus was not that of Orm.

But here a disquieting thought presented itself. Who had removed this urn from the tomb in Ormfell, and in what way had Lorelie become possessed of it? He dismissed the question for the moment in order to listen to Beatrice who was speaking again.

"Footsteps round about. Light shines through the interstices of the tomb. Some one is speaking. It is the dark-haired lady. There is a man with her. They take off the lid of the tomb and put in all kinds of bright things—coins and rings: gold and silver ingots: cups, lamps, precious stones, and the like. They sparkle in the light. The tomb is full. They lay the rest on the floor. Now they steal away. The light goes with them. Silence and darkness again."

Thus far Beatrice's monologue had dealt with a period of history distant by a thousand years, and had told Idris little that he did not already know. Would she continue the story of the urn through the succeeding centuries? Would she reach modern times, and speak of those who had removed the treasure? would she describe the murder that had taken place, and tell how the urn came to be in Lorelie's possession?