worn instead, and put it in her hand that held the gold brooch. “No, you are not to give me yours in exchange. I have brooches enough, I have—”
He turned abruptly, blushing, ran from her grasp, and strode off rapidly toward the hall.
He drew a deep breath, much relieved after all to find that the rooms beyond were empty. One of the dogs got up and came to meet him, wagging its tail; Olav patted it and spoke a friendly word or two.
He stretched himself and yawned with relief on getting off his tight clothes. The coat had chafed him horribly under the arms-he could not possibly wear it again, unless it was altered. Ingunn could do that.
As he was about to fling himself into his sleeping-place, he saw that there was already a man lying there. “Are you all come home now?” asked the other drowsily. Olav knew by the voice it was Arnvid Finnsson.
“No, it is but I . I had an errand in the town,” he said as calmly as if there were nothing strange in his going to Hamar on business of his own. Arnvid grunted something. In a moment they were both snoring.
6 Norse, Æ
ttarfylgja:
the fetch or “doubleganger” of his race.
7 Ere daylight be gone, we pray Thee, Creator of the world, that of Thy mercy Thou wilt be our Guide and Guardian.
May the visions and spectres of the night be far from us; hold back our enemy, lest our bodies be defiled.
Hear our prayer, O Father most holy, and Thou, only-begotten Son, equal to the Father, who with the Holy Ghost, the Comforter, reignest for ever and ever.
3
W HEN Olav awoke, he saw by the light in the hall that it was long past noon. He raised himself on his elbow and found that Ingunn and Arnvid were sitting on the dais. The look on the girl’s face was so strange—at once scared and thoughtful.
She heard him get up and came rapidly to his bed. She wore the same bright-red kirtle as the day before; and with the newvision with which he looked on her, Olav turned hot with joy, for she was fair to see.
“Now methinks we shall soon know what Brother Vegard meant—and the smith—with that they said about the axes,” she said, greatly moved. “Arnvid says that Mattias Haraldsson was at the Thing and fared northward to the manor he has at Birid.”
“Ah,” said Olav. He was bending down to tie his shoestring. Then he straightened himself and gave Arnvid his hand in greeting: “Now we shall see what Steinfinn will do when he hears this.”
“He
has
heard it,” replied Arnvid. “It is for that he has ridden north to Kolbein, says Ingebjörg.”
“You must go out and fetch me some food, Ingunn,” said Olav. As soon as the girl was out of the hall, he asked the other: “Know you what thoughts Steinfinn has now?”
“I know what thoughts Ingebjörg has,” replied Arnvid.
“Ay, they are easily guessed.”
Olav had always liked Arnvid Finnsson best of all the men he knew—though he had never thought about it. But he felt at ease in Arnvid’s company. For all that, it would never have occurred to him to call the other his friend; Arnvid had been grown up and married almost as long as Olav remembered him; and now he had been two years a widower.
But today it was as though the difference in their ages had vanished—Olav felt it so. He felt that he was grown up and the other was a young man like himself; Arnvid was not settled and fixed in his ways like other married men. His marriage had been like a yoke that was laid upon him in his youth, and since then he had striven instinctively to outgrow the marks of it—all this Olav was suddenly aware of, without knowing whence he had it.
And in the same way Arnvid seemed to feel that the two young ones had shot up much nearer to him in age. He spoke to them as to equals. While Olav was eating, Arnvid sat shaving fine slices, no thicker than a leaf, from a wind-dried shoulder of reindeer, which Ingunn was so fond of chewing.
“The worst of it is that Steinfinn has let this insult grow so old,” said Arnvid.
He turned abruptly, blushing, ran from her grasp, and strode off rapidly toward the hall.
He drew a deep breath, much relieved after all to find that the rooms beyond were empty. One of the dogs got up and came to meet him, wagging its tail; Olav patted it and spoke a friendly word or two.
He stretched himself and yawned with relief on getting off his tight clothes. The coat had chafed him horribly under the arms-he could not possibly wear it again, unless it was altered. Ingunn could do that.
As he was about to fling himself into his sleeping-place, he saw that there was already a man lying there. “Are you all come home now?” asked the other drowsily. Olav knew by the voice it was Arnvid Finnsson.
“No, it is but I . I had an errand in the town,” he said as calmly as if there were nothing strange in his going to Hamar on business of his own. Arnvid grunted something. In a moment they were both snoring.
6 Norse, Æ
ttarfylgja:
the fetch or “doubleganger” of his race.
7 Ere daylight be gone, we pray Thee, Creator of the world, that of Thy mercy Thou wilt be our Guide and Guardian.
May the visions and spectres of the night be far from us; hold back our enemy, lest our bodies be defiled.
Hear our prayer, O Father most holy, and Thou, only-begotten Son, equal to the Father, who with the Holy Ghost, the Comforter, reignest for ever and ever.
3
W HEN Olav awoke, he saw by the light in the hall that it was long past noon. He raised himself on his elbow and found that Ingunn and Arnvid were sitting on the dais. The look on the girl’s face was so strange—at once scared and thoughtful.
She heard him get up and came rapidly to his bed. She wore the same bright-red kirtle as the day before; and with the newvision with which he looked on her, Olav turned hot with joy, for she was fair to see.
“Now methinks we shall soon know what Brother Vegard meant—and the smith—with that they said about the axes,” she said, greatly moved. “Arnvid says that Mattias Haraldsson was at the Thing and fared northward to the manor he has at Birid.”
“Ah,” said Olav. He was bending down to tie his shoestring. Then he straightened himself and gave Arnvid his hand in greeting: “Now we shall see what Steinfinn will do when he hears this.”
“He
has
heard it,” replied Arnvid. “It is for that he has ridden north to Kolbein, says Ingebjörg.”
“You must go out and fetch me some food, Ingunn,” said Olav. As soon as the girl was out of the hall, he asked the other: “Know you what thoughts Steinfinn has now?”
“I know what thoughts Ingebjörg has,” replied Arnvid.
“Ay, they are easily guessed.”
Olav had always liked Arnvid Finnsson best of all the men he knew—though he had never thought about it. But he felt at ease in Arnvid’s company. For all that, it would never have occurred to him to call the other his friend; Arnvid had been grown up and married almost as long as Olav remembered him; and now he had been two years a widower.
But today it was as though the difference in their ages had vanished—Olav felt it so. He felt that he was grown up and the other was a young man like himself; Arnvid was not settled and fixed in his ways like other married men. His marriage had been like a yoke that was laid upon him in his youth, and since then he had striven instinctively to outgrow the marks of it—all this Olav was suddenly aware of, without knowing whence he had it.
And in the same way Arnvid seemed to feel that the two young ones had shot up much nearer to him in age. He spoke to them as to equals. While Olav was eating, Arnvid sat shaving fine slices, no thicker than a leaf, from a wind-dried shoulder of reindeer, which Ingunn was so fond of chewing.
“The worst of it is that Steinfinn has let this insult grow so old,” said Arnvid.
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