ook of terror, "it's the dead come
to life again."

"God a-mercy me," said another, pausing with his snuff at his nose,
"I could have sworn I fetched him a dead man out of the sea."

Jason knew them, but before they had so far regained their
self-command as to hail to him, he had faced about, though eager to
ask many questions, and walked away. "Better not," he thought, and
hurried on.

He took the High Street towards the Inn, and then an irregular alley
that led past the lake to a square in front of the Cathedral, and
ended at a little house of basaltic blocks that nestled at its feet,
for it was there he meant to lodge. It had been the home of a worthy
couple whom he had known in the old days, caretakers of the
Cathedral, and his mother's only friends in her last days. Old and
feeble and very deaf they had both been then, and as he strode along
in the darkness he wondered if he should find them still alive. He
found them as he had left them: not otherwise changed than if the
five years of his absence had been but five hours. The old man was
still at the hearth chopping up some logs of driftwood, and the old
woman was still at the table ironing her linen by the light of a rush
candle. With uplifted hands and cries of wonderment they received
him, and while he supped on the porridge and skyr that they set
before him they talked and questioned.

"And where have you been this many a day?" said the old man.

"In England, Scotland, Denmark--many places," said Jason.

"Well they've buried you these four years and better," said the old
man, with a grimace.

"Lord bless me, yes, love; and a cross over your grave too, and your
name on it," said the old woman, with a look of awe.

"Who did that?" said Jason.

"Jorgen Jorgensen," said the old man, grinning.

"It's next to your mother's, love. He did that, too, for when he
heard that she was gone he repented," said the old woman.

"It's no good folks repenting when their bad work's done and done
with," said the old man.

"That's what I say. There's them above that won't call it repenting.
And see what has come of it," said the old woman.

"What?" said Jason.

"Why, he has gone. Didn't you know, love?" said the old woman.

"How gone?" said Jason. "Dead?"

"Worse--disgraced--driven out of Iceland," said the old man.

Then an ugly smile crossed Jason's face. "It is the beginning," he
thought.

"But the old mother is dead, is she not?" he said aloud.

"Your f