“It does stir my heart strangely, sister,” replied Hilda, “I scarcely can explain how. I feel exultation when I see the might of our district, and the bold bearing of our brave and brisk men; but my heart sinks again when I think of what is to come—the blood of men flowing like water, death sweeping them down like grain before the sickle; and for what? Ada, these go not forth to defend us from our enemies, they go to war with brothers and kindred—with Norsemen.”
Ada beat her foot impatiently on the sod, and frowned a little as she said—
“I know it well enough, but it is a grand sight for all that, and it does no good to peep into the future as thou art doing continually.”
“I do not peep,” replied Hilda; “the future stares me full in the face.”
“Well, let it stare, sister mine,” said Ada, with a laugh, as she cleared her brow, “and stare past its face at what lies before thee at present, which is beautiful enough, thou must allow.”
At that moment there seemed to be increasing bustle and energy on the part of the warriors on the shore, and the murmur of their voices grew louder.
“What can that mean, I wonder?” said Ada.
“Fresh news arrived, perhaps,” replied her friend. “The Christians’ God grant that this war may be averted!”
“Amen, if it be His will,” said a deep voice behind the girls, who turned and found the hermit standing at their side. “But, Hilda,” he continued, “God does not always answer our prayers in the way we expect—sometimes because we pray for the wrong thing, and sometimes because we pray that the right thing may come to us in the wrong way. I like best to end my petitions with the words of my dear Saviour Jesus Christ— ‘Thy will be done.’ Just now it would seem as if war were ordained to go on, for a scout has just come in to say that King Harald with his fleet is on the other side of yonder point, and I am sent to fetch thee down to a place of safety without delay.”
“Who sent thee?” demanded Ada.