le, and hastened back to Drontheim; not, however, without learning
on the way that preparations were being secretly made all over that
district to resist the King, and that, in particular, Solve Klofe was in
the fiord at Horlingdal, with several ships of war, doing his best to
fan the flame of discontent, which was already burning there briskly
enough of its own accord!

On returning again to King Harald's quarters, Hauskuld found that
energetic monarch engaged in celebrating one of the heathen feasts, and
deemed it prudent for some hours to avoid his master, knowing that when
heated with deep potations he was not in the best condition to receive
or act upon exasperating news. He therefore went into the great hall,
where the King and his guests were assembled, and quietly took his place
at the lower end of one of the long tables near the door.

As is usual with men of inferior and debased minds, the berserk
misunderstood and misjudged his master. He had counted on escaping
notice, but the King's eye fell on him the instant he entered the hall,
and he was at once summoned before him, and bidden tell his tale. While
he related the details of the dreadful massacre Hauskuld felt quite at
ease, little dreaming that the King's fingers twitched with a desire to
cut him down where he stood; but when he came to speak of the widespread
disaffection of the people in the south, he stammered a little, and
glanced uneasily at the flushed countenance of the King, fearing that
the news would exasperate him beyond endurance. Great, therefore, was
his surprise when Harald affected to treat the matter lightly, made some
jesting allusion to the potent efficacy of the sword in bringing
obstinate people to reason, and ordered one of the waiting-girls to
fetch the berserk a foaming tankard of ale.

"There, drink, Hauskuld, my bold berserk! drink down to a deeper peg,
man. After such warm work as thou hast had, that will serve to cool thy
fiery spirit. Drink to the gods, and pray that thou mayest never come
to die, like an old woman, in thy bed--drink, I say, drink deep!"

The King laughed jovially, almost fiercely, in his wild humour, as he
made this allusion to the well-known objection that the Norse warriors
of old had to dying peacefully in bed; but for the life of him he could
not resist the temptation, as he turned on his seat, to touch with his
elbow the huge silver tankard which the berserk raised to his lips! The
instantaneo