"Then we should see how your hound has fared," replied Lupus, and the girl sprang up to follow him into the thicket.
CHAPTER XVIII
Such doings for us
Are naught seemly to do;
To rend with sword
Oaths once sworn
And troth once plighted.
LAY OF SIGURD.
Even in the heat of battle, never had Roland known the wild fury that raged in his breast as he crashed through the thickets in search of his foster-brother. His headlong rush failed to soothe the anguish of Fastrada's poisoned shaft; and with the pain his anger grew more terrible. The thought of the maiden lying before him in piteous abasement, and a savage fear that the betrayer of her love might escape, alike spurred him on. The outlander was fleet of foot; he must run swiftly if he would overtake him. But, no! there was the wretch, beyond the wild-grown hedge.
Olvir stood in a little glade. His face was bowed, and his dark eyes were dull and glazed with agony. Grief and despair almost beyond endurance distorted his face and shook his body with racking sobs. He had loved the beautiful Thuringian with all the passion of his fiery Eastern nature, with all the tender reverence of his Norse blood and rearing. Had death torn her from him, he could have bowed to the will of the Norns. But that his betrothed should have proved false!