"I've lost my way," he cried, over the wailing of the wind. "Tell me, please, what place this is?"
"This is Korastead," the man cried back, and then a woman came into the hall-way and stood behind him. The man was Jon Vidalin and the woman was Gudrun, but neither of them knew him.
"Where were you going, sir?" said Jon.
"To the auction at Thingvellir."
"You are not so far out of your road, then. Bear to the right until you cross the river, and then follow the stones until you come to the Chasm."
Christian Christiansson hesitated. "I'm tired, having ridden from Reykjavik, and it doesn't seem much good going farther. Nobody else will be fool enough to travel in weather like this, and without people to bid there can be no auction. So if you can give me shelter and a shake-down----"
"You are welcome to the shelter, sir, but if you want the place you had better go on and get there."
"Why so?"
"Because it's a Sheriff's sale, and he'll sell in any case."
"How can he sell if there's nobody to buy?"