“Why, Glumm,” he exclaimed at last, “a dumb spirit must have got hold of us! What possesses thee, man?”
“Truly it takes two to make a conversation,” said Glumm sulkily.
“That is as thou sayest, friend, yet I am not aware that I refused to talk with thee,” retorted Erling.
“Nor I with thee,” said Glumm sharply, “and thy tongue was glib enough when ye talked with Ada in Horlingdal.”
A light flashed upon Erling as his friend spoke.
“Why, Glumm,” he said lightly, “a pretty girl will make most men’s tongues wag whether they will or no.”
Glumm remembered his own obstinate silence while walking with Hilda, and deeming this a studied insult he became furious, reined up and said:
“Come, Erling, if ye wish to settle this dispute at once we need fear no interruption, and here is a piece of level sward.”
“Nay, man, be not so hot,” said Erling, with a smile that still more exasperated his companion; “besides, is it fair to challenge me to fight with this light weapon while thou bearest a sword so long and deadly?”
“That shall be no bar,” cried the other, unslinging his two-handed sword; “thou canst use it thyself, and I will content me with thine.”