Ulric the Jarl: A Story of the Penitent Thief

by William O. Stoddard

"O companion of Hilda!"

"Beautiful is he!" exclaimed Wulf. "But his face is full of pride this day, and I think he is in anger. Speak not to him."

"The woman lifteth her veil," said Tostig, "and she leaneth forward. Odin! She is wonderful! Her headdress is of jewels. Mark the jarl!"

Dark yet fair, with the red of the new rose in her cheeks and with eyes like the lone stars in a winter night, was the young woman who so suddenly leaned forth to look at Ulric. Into his eyes, also, came flashing a great light and a smile of joy was on his face.

"O companion of Hilda!" he shouted in Hebrew. "How camest thou hither from thy place among the gods? I am Ulric the Jarl, and I saw thee when I was on the sea."

Silent was this beautiful princess for a moment, but she grew pale and then red and she seemed to tremble greatly.

"O maiden," said Ben Ezra, "whoever thou art, drive on. He will not harm thee. He is a prince of the Saxons and thou mayest not have conversation with him. He is not for such as thou art, O daughter of Israel."

"Hold thou thy peace!" came from the maiden, as one of high rank may speak. "Warrior of the Saxons, come thou nearer. Thou didst not see me, for I was never on any ship. What is thy meaning?"