Heika laughed heartily, and said that he feared he had nothing of the spirit of the skald about him, and that his power of invention was not great.
“But I have more news to give thee, brother, besides that regarding Bertha,” said Hake. “Do you know there is a countryman of ours on board of one of the ships that brought out the men of the new religion, and he has but lately seen our father and Emma?”
Heika started and laid his hand on his brother’s arm, while he gazed earnestly into his face.
“It is ill jesting on such a subject,” he said somewhat sternly.
“So think I, brother; therefore I recommend you not to jest,” returned Hake gravely.
“Nay, but is it true?”
“Ay, true as that the sky is over our heads. I have had a long talk with him, and when he found I was a countryman he gave me a hug that made my ribs bend. His name is Sawneysson, a very giant of a man, with hair that might have grown on the back of a Greenland bear, only that it is red instead of white. He told me that he knew our father well by sight, and last saw him taking a ramble on Dunedin hill, whither he had walked from our village on the Forth, which shows that the old man’s vigour has improved. Emma was with him too, so Sawneysson said, looking beautiful, but somewhat sad.”
“How knew he her name?” asked Heika.
“He knew it not,” replied Hake. “He did but say that a fair maiden walked with our father, and I knew at once from his description that it was Emma. But you can inquire for yourself at his own mouth, for this countryman of ours is an enthusiastic fellow, and fond of talking about home.”
“Brother,” said Heika, with a sad but earnest look, “I must give this man the cold shoulder.”