“I hold that welcome for true which is told by the face as well as by the tongue. I think you did not expect to see me so soon?”
That seemed so easy to answer that Randvar had said “No,” before he recollected the truth, when he amended it with “Yes,” and stopped short in angry confusion. His embarrassment was not lessened by the inevitable next question:
“Why did you run away when I called to you?”
He said desperately, at last: “Jarl, I do not know how to put it into words. You can believe that I went mad.”
He had braced himself to meet jeering laughter, to endure it without strangling the jeerer. It took him a breath’s space to realize that Helvin’s mind was no longer on him. The arm by which he had been steadying himself against the pillar had doubled under him like a broken reed; now he swung forward against the stone, and would have pitched into the fire if Randvar had not leaped the flames and caught him.
When he had lowered him upon a bench with his back against a support, the next move was naturally to fill a horn at the wine-cask and bring it to him. Remembering only his old feeling towards the Jarl’s son, Rolf’s son performed the service with swift good-will. He was recalled to their present relations by Helvin’s lifting a hand in refusal of his hospitality.
It obliged him to fall back a step and hesitate, balancing the rejected cup, but it emboldened him presently to protest.
“Jarl, it does not seem to me that this matter is going according to good sense. That I have done nothing to earn friendship, I own; but I deny that I have done aught to call for ill will. If you think me a milksop, I cannot come to words with you about that; but it is the truth that I would have been eager in joining you.”
Leaning back with closed eyes, Helvin’s face was yet drawn awry by mocking laughter.
“Eager!” he murmured. “Eager!” Then, “It may be that if I had not come here to-night, your eagerness would have urged you to seek me out in the Town?”