“There, also, he made a mistake,” she replied, laughing. “But never mind, Cousin Sigurd.”
The following day, Ragnild, Thordis, and her brother, with Sigurd, drove up to Eagle Mountain from which a beautiful view of the sea, of the burg, and of the island could be seen.
Every day that passed away bound the friendship of these three maidens with Sigurd stronger than before.
Alas! a day came when Ragnild’s mother, who was also a visitor on the island, received a runic message from home, that they must return. Poor Ragnild did not like it. She wanted to stay, for it was so pleasant on the island. Sigurd was at least no better pleased, nor were Thordis and Thorana, and it was with great regret that they parted; they followed her to the ship, but not before they promised to meet again in the winter. Ragnild was very much missed by them in all the entertainments that followed, and Sigurd thought often afterwards of lovely Ragnild.
One day Sigurd proposed to Thordis and Thorana a moonlight drive, as the weather was beautiful, and at that time, the beginning of September, the moon was very brilliant. It was agreed that two other friends were to go. They were pleasant men, full of life and jollity.
It was a beautiful night; not a cloud was seen in the sky. The full moon, queen of the night, shone in all her glory; the stars glittered and twinkled brilliantly in the deep azure of the firmament.
Waiting in front of the “skemma,” or bower, of Thordis and Thorana stood a splendid four-wheeled carriage, wagon-like in shape, drawn by two of the fleetest horses known in the country. The horses were very restive. They champed the bit, pawed the ground, and snorted incessantly. Two men held the fiery steeds firmly by the bridle, and it took all their might, and in despite of this they could hardly prevent them from getting away from them.
Sigurd and his two companions were anxiously waiting for the coming of the two Vikings’ daughters. Thorana and Thordis at last made their appearance, clad in their warm, graceful evening cloaks. Their faces were radiant with expectation, for both had been looking forward to that drive by moonlight and the sail on Eagle Lake, and were anticipating great delight. Accompanying them was a middle-aged friend, a woman who was to act, as we say in our modern way, as a chaperon. She was very skilled in embroidery, and had great talent in representing on canvas all kinds of scenery, views of the sea or landscape, either weird or charming.
They had hardly entered the carriage, and had had no time to be seated, when the horses, becoming apparently unmanageable, dashed forward, and, as they rounded the corner of the way leading to the high road, the vehicle seemed fairly to bend like a bow, and was on the point of being overturned. Fortunately the great skill of the driver was equal to the emergency. Then the carriage fairly flew over the ground, an irresistible power seeming to impel the fiery steeds forward in their furious speed.
The excitement was very great among all. Sigurd exclaimed that even Sleipnir, the eight-footed horse of Odin, could not go faster, neither could clouds, pushed before the tempest, fly forward more quickly. The moonlight imparted a weird appearance to the landscape, the strange shadows of the trees seemed to play all round them, and the shadows of the rocks and of the hills appeared and disappeared, one after another, in quick succession, like phantoms or ghosts.