Poor Geir was struck dumb with amazement; but his wife made up for his silence, and jeered and laughed at him for his folly and stupidity.
“First you get rid of our only means of support, and now, when we know not how or where to get food for ourselves, you bring home another mouth to feed, and so add to our burden. You surely must have lost the little wit you ever had!”
And thus the war of words raged till the man in grey said—
“Your wrangling will do none of us any good. Rather let me go out and see if I cannot bring back some food for supper. We shall certainly not grow fat on your quarrels.”
So saying, and without awaiting a reply, he opened the door and sallied forth in the darkness, and ere the old couple could come to any decision as to who or what he was, good geni or wicked sprite, the grey man returned, bringing back with him a nice fat sheep ready killed.
“There,” he said, throwing it down, “now you can prepare some food, so that we may eat.”
Geir scratched his head, and looked at Trude. She returned the glance, and then they both looked at the grey man. Surely he must have stolen the sheep! They did not know what to do.
But at length hunger got the better of their scruples, and, following the directions of Greybeard, as they called him, they cut up the sheep, cooked a portion of it for their supper, and lived in comfort on the remainder for several days. When that sheep was finished, Greybeard brought in another, then a third, then a fourth, and also a fifth.
By this time Greybeard had become a very welcome guest, and the old people wondered how they could ever have lived without him.