He was checked by a glimpse of the face Alwin turned toward him. Pride and loathing, passion and sternness, were all mingled in its expression.
The Saxon said slowly, "Heaven's mercy on the soul that reaps the reward of this deed! Easier would it be to suffer these tortures a hundredfold increased. Profit by such a deed, Rolf Erlingsson! Do you think that I would live a life that sprang from such a death? To cleanse my hand from the stain of such a murder, though the blood had but spattered on it, I would hew it off at the wrist."
CHAPTER XXIX
THE BATTLE TO THE STRONG
He is happy
Who gets for himself
Praise and good-will.
Ha'vama'l
It was a picture of sylvan revelry that the sunset light reddened, as it bade farewell to the Norse camp on the river bluff. On the green before the huts, two of the fair-haired were striving against other in a rousing tug-of-war. Now the hide was stretched motionless between them; now it was drawn a foot to the right, amid a volley of jeers; and now it was jerked back a foot to the left, with an answering chorus of cheers. The chief sat under the spreading maple-tree, watching the sport critically, with an occasional gesture of applause. Over the head of the bear-cub she was fondling, Helga watched it also, with unseeing eyes. Those who had come in from hunting and fishing sprawled at their ease on the turf, and shouted jovial comments over their wine-cups.
They welcomed Rolf and the Norman with a shout, when the pair appeared on the edge of the grove.
"Hail, comrades!"—"It was in our minds to give you up for lost!" "Your coming we will take as an omen that Kark will also return some time."—"Yes, return and cook us some food."—"We are becoming hollow as bubbles."
Rolf accepted their greetings with an easy flourish.