"Dangerous, malignant idol," he said, with his teeth clenched, "whether you are devil or stock you shall be neither within this few minutes. To what monstrous pass have you brought us, to keep true lovers apart! You, to keep lovers apart! To what shameful drudgery you turn this sweet woman. You, to drudge a woman! Ah, block of abomination, the one good thing you have done is to turn my heart to a faith that is cleaner than yours. If you have set me free, now it is my turn. Here's for Sigrid—and to let the fiend out of the tree." With that he swung the axe high in the air and brought it down true upon the head of Frey. Frey was cloven from the crown to the chine, and fell neatly in halves on either side of him. Gunnar looked up. The cloud-wrack had blown over, the sky was clear and gemmed with stars.
"Frey has ridden off on the storm," he said. Then he called aloud, "Sigrid!" And her faint voice answered, "Gunnar!" He climbed into the wagon.
MORROW OF THE STORM
CHAPTER XVII MORROW OF THE STORM
The storm had abated in the night, the weather of the morning was fair, with a wind from the south. Gunnar, when he went out and looked about him, thought that it would be possible to take up the journey by noon.