No man ever heard of a greater feast. When it ended, all the guests departed with costly gifts.
The time when Randalin was to leave Upsalir, to part from all that had been dear to her in her girlhood, had arrived. A new epoch of her life had dawned upon her without her being aware of it. Her girlhood’s careless joys had departed forever. All had been so bright in her youth, that she fancied it would continue to the end of her life. She possessed Ivar, and happiness was assured to her forever.
Skuld had carefully concealed from her gaze the future. Little did she dream of the stormy billows of life ahead, of the sorrows that befall every mortal man and woman. Ivar was all to her, and for him she was willing to sacrifice even her life. Love was her own. O Skuld, how kind thou art to hide from man the decrees of the Nornir, who have shaped our lives from our birth! We came into the world through no will of our own, and we know not in the beginning of the day what fate will bring forth before night.
Randalin’s eyes, full of hope, were looking into the future. Hope and the Future, those twin sisters, were brighter in her eyes than the rays of the sun. Ivar belonged to her, and Love owned them both.
The dragon-ship that carried Ivar and Randalin to Dampstadir, carried the sweetest, the loveliest of wives, and the manliest and wisest of husbands.
LONDON:
PRINTED FROM AMERICAN PLATES BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED,
DUKE STREET, STAMFORD STREET.