g about
our conversation."

"I promise," said Erling, with an amused glance.

"It is for Glumm."

"For Glumm!" repeated Erling in surprise; "does Glumm then know--"

"Know what?" asked Ada, as Erling stopped abruptly.

"Does he know that thou art making this belt for him?"

"Know it? why, how could it be a secret if he knew it?"

"Ah, true, I--well?"

"Besides," continued Ada, "I am not _making_ it; I said I was going to
ornament it. Now it is with reference to that I would consult thee."

Here Ada became so deeply absorbed in the mysteries of ornamental armour
that she constrained Erling at least to appear interested, although,
poor man, his heart was behind him, and he had much difficulty in
resisting the desire to turn round when he heard Hilda's voice--which,
by the way, was heard pretty constantly, for Glumm was so uncommonly
gruff and monosyllabic in his replies that she had most of the talking
to herself.

This unpleasant state of things might have lasted a considerable time,
had not the party reached the path which diverged to the left, and,
crossing the river over a narrow bridge composed of two tall trees
thrown across, led to Glummstede. Here Erling stopped suddenly, and
wheeling round, said:

"I regret that we cannot go farther down the dale to-day, as Glumm and I
must fare with all speed to the Springs to meet King Harald."

"I trust thine errand is one of peace?" said Hilda in a slightly anxious
tone.

"To judge by their looks," said Ada, glancing expressively at Glumm, "I
should say that their intentions were warlike!"

"Despite our looks," replied Erling, with a laugh, "our business with
the King is of a peaceful nature, and as it is pressing, ye will excuse
us if--"

"Oh! it _is_ pressing, after all," cried Ada; "come, sister, let us not
delay them."

So saying, she hurried away with her friend, and the two youths strode
on to Glummstede in a very unenviable frame of mind.

Having refreshed themselves with several cuts of fresh salmon--drawn
that morning from the foaming river--and with a deep horn of home-brewed
ale, the young warriors mounted a couple of active horses, and rode up
the mountain path that led in a zigzag direction over the fells to the
valley of the Springs. They rode in silence at first--partly because
the nature of the track compelled them to advance in single file, and
partly because each was in the worst possible humour of which his nature
was capable, whil