ast ended, than Folko and
Gabrielle, with a grave and courteous salutation, retired to their
apartments.

CHAPTER 16

Life in the castle took from this time quite another form. Those two
bright beings, Folko and Gabrielle, spent most part of the day in their
apartments, and when they showed themselves, it was with quiet dignity
and grave silence, while Biorn and Sintram stood before them in humble
fear. Nevertheless, Biorn could not bear the thought of his guests
seeking shelter in any other knight's abode. When Folko once spoke of
it, something like a tear stood in the wild man's eye. His head sank,
and he said softly, "As you please; but I feel that if you go, I shall
run among the rocks for days."

And thus they all remained together; for the storm continued to rage
with such increasing fury over the sea, that no sea voyage could be
thought of, and the oldest man in Norway could not call to mind such
an autumn. The priests examined all the runic books, the bards looked
through their lays and tales, and yet they could find no record of the
like. Biorn and Sintram braved the tempest; but during the few hours
in which Folko and Gabrielle showed themselves, the father and son were
always in the castle, as if respectfully waiting upon them; the rest
of the day--nay, often through whole nights, they rushed through the
forests and over the rocks in pursuit of bears. Folko the while called
up all the brightness of his fancy, all his courtly grace, in order to
make Gabrielle forget that she was living in this wild castle, and that
the long, hard northern winter was setting in, which would ice them in
for many a month. Sometimes he would relate bright tales; then he would
play the liveliest airs to induce Gabrielle to lead a dance with her
attendants; then, again, handing his lute to one of the women, he would
himself take a part the dance, well knowing to express thereby after
some new fashion his devotion to his lady. Another time he would have
the spacious halls of the castle prepared for his armed retainers to
go through their warlike exercises, and Gabrielle always adjudged the
reward to the conqueror. Folko often joined the circle of combatants; so
that he only met their attacks, defending himself, but depriving no one
of the prize. The Norwegians, who stood around as spectators, used
to compare him to the demi-god Baldur, one of the heroes of their old
traditions, who was wont to let the darts of his compan