“How so, boy?”
“Why, because I have for a long time past taken an uncommon interest in thy welfare.”
Glumm laughed, and said he did not know that there was any occasion to concern himself about his welfare.
“Oh yes, there is!” cried Alric, “for, when a man goes moping about the country as if he were fey, or as if he had dreamed of seeing his own guardian spirit, his friends cannot help being concerned about him.”
“Why, what is running in the lad’s head?” said Glumm, looking with a perplexed expression at his young companion.
“Nothing runs in my head, save ordinary thoughts. If there be any unusual running at all, it must be in thine own.”
“Speak, thou little fox,” said Glumm, suddenly grasping Alric by the nape of the neck and giving him a shake.
“Nay then, if that is thy plan,” said the boy, “give it a fair trial. Shake away, and see what comes of it. Thou mayest shake out blood, bones, flesh, and life too, and carry home my skin as a trophy, but be assured that thou shalt not shake a word off my tongue!”
“Boldly spoken,” said Glumm, laughing, as he released the lad; “but I think thy tone would change if I were to take thee at thy word.”
“That it would not. Thou art not the first man whom I have defied, aye, and drawn blood from, as that red-haired Dane—”