His voice crashed through hers like a thunder-peal: "Who kept the watch on board, last night?"
Half a dozen men started in sudden consternation; but they were spared the peril of a reply, for Sigurd Haraldsson stepped out of the throng and stood at Helga's side.
"I kept the watch last night, foster-father," he said, quietly. "Let none of your men suffer in life or limb. It was I who received her on board, while it was the others' turn to sleep; and I alone who hid her in the foreroom."
Those who had hoped that Leif's love for his foster-son might outweigh his anger, gauged but poorly the force of the resentment he had been holding back. At this offer of a victim which it was free to accept, his anger could no more be restrained than an unchained torrent. It burst out in a stream of denunciation that bent Sigurd's handsome head and lashed the blood into his cheeks. Coward and traitor were the mildest of its reproaches; contempt and eternal displeasure were the least of its dooms. Though Helga besought with eyes and hands, the torrent thundered on with a fury that even the ire of Eric had never surpassed.
Only a lack of breath brought it finally to an end. The chief dashed himself back into his chair, and leaned there, panting and darting fiery glances from under his scowling brows,—now at Rolf and the Norman, now at Helga, and again at the motionless figure of Sigurd Haraldsson, silently awaiting his pleasure. When he spoke again, it was with the suddenness of a blow.
"Nor do I altogether believe that it was to escape from Gilli that she took this venture upon herself. By her own story, Gilli had gone away for the season and left her free. It is my opinion that it took something of more importance to steal the wits out of her."
Helga blanched. If he was going to pry into her motives, what might not the next words bring out? Under the Norman's silken tunic, an English heart leaped, and then stood still. There was a pause in which no one seemed to breathe. But the next words were as unexpected as the last.
Of a sudden, Leif started up with a gesture of impatience. "Have I nothing to think of besides your follies? Trouble me no longer with the sight of you. Tyrker, take the girl below and see to it that she is cared for." While the culprits stared at him, scarcely daring to credit their ears, he still further signified that the incident was closed, by turning his back upon them and inviting Robert Sans-Peur to take the German's place at the chess-board.
In a daze of bewilderment, Sigurd let Rolf lead him away. "What can he mean by such an ending?" he marvelled, as soon as it was safe to voice his thoughts. "How comes it that he will stop before he has found out her real motive? It cannot be that he will drop it thus. Did you not see the black look he gave me as I left?" He raised his eyes to Rolf's face, and drew back resentfully. "What are you smiling at?" he demanded.
"At your stupidity," Rolf laughed into his ear. "Do you not see that he believes he has found out her real motive?" As Sigurd continued to stare, the Wrestler shook him to arouse his slumbering faculties. "Simpleton! He thinks it was for love of you that Helga fled from Norway!"