Olvir touched the Magian's head with his buskin, and answered coldly: "Odin bear witness--the hoarder's heart is touched! He 'd give away his gold."
"All--all, to the last penny--only spare my life! I will serve you; I 'll be your slave! Do not thrust into the grave one who already totters on the brink!"
"The greyer the viper, the deadlier its venom," rejoined the Northman, in an ominous tone. "That man is dog-wise who passes by the evil worm because it lies in his path torpid."
"Olvir--Olvir, do not slay the old man!" cried Rothada, and she darted across the chamber, to cling to her lover's arm. "He has been good to me, and--and he has saved many lives."
"Ai! the king's daughter pleads for me; the maiden pleads! I have never sought to do her hurt--by the God of my fathers, I swear it, noble count! Even now I was but coming to fetch the queen's sampler. How could I know you from a priest, lord? If I hid behind the hangings, thinking to creep near and listen, I meant no evil. Only forgive me, and I will serve you; I 'll make confession how, with the witch in the Moselle Wood, I brewed love potions for her daughter to give the Lord Karolah, and how I bound the queen in slumber with my drugs, that the dark maiden might be free to lure the king with her enticements. Spare me, lord, and I 'll even tell--"
"Go to the priests with your witchery and spells," broke in Olvir, with impatient contempt. "As to your lying pledges, I ask nothing of a miserly dotard; nor will I take your oath for silence. This knife is better pledge. Do not forget its keen point, and learn that every man among my blood-eager warriors bears such another blade. If you betray me, by word or by sign, they will search you out, though it be from under the very seat of the throne. I have spoken. Now rise up and guide me back by the way I came, to the door of the slaves."
"Ai! the shadow of Azrael is upon me! The wrathful youth seeks to lure me from the presence of the king's daughter, to shed my blood in secret!"
"Grey fool! That is a lie born of your own treachery. The knife is the maiden's; I give it back into her own hand. Rise up; I would be going. Farewell, little may! It is ill luck that our parting must be said before such a one; yet I trust to the blue steel that he blots all from his memory. Come now, darling, draw near my heart."
"God forbid it be for the last time!" sobbed the girl, overcome by the thought. The knife fell unheeded from her hand upon the wolfskin beside her as she sank, half fainting, into Olvir's arms. Many moments passed while she lay on his breast, quivering with grief. Then Olvir kissed her forehead, and put her gently from him, to spurn the shoulder of the leech.
"Up, dog!" he muttered harshly. "Lead me out."