a young
Christian priest, one of those who contemned the gods of the north.
Often lately there had been, both in hall and chamber, a talk of the
new faith which was spreading far and wide in the south, and which,
through the means of the holy Ansgarius, had already reached as far as
Hedeby on the Schlei. Even Helga had heard of this belief in the
teachings of One who was named Christ, and who for the love of
mankind, and for their redemption, had given up His life. But to her
all this had, as it were, gone in one ear and out the other. It seemed
that she only understood the meaning of the word "love," when in the
form of a miserable frog she crouched together in the corner of the
sleeping chamber; but the Viking's wife had listened to the
wonderful story, and had felt herself strangely moved by it.
On their return, after this voyage, the men spoke of the beautiful
temples built of polished stone, which had been raised for the
public worship of this holy love. Some vessels, curiously formed of
massive gold, had been brought home among the booty. There was a
peculiar fragrance about them all, for they were incense vessels,
which had been swung before the altars in the temples by the Christian
priests. In the deep stony cellars of the castle, the young
Christian priest was immured, and his hands and feet tied together
with strips of bark. The Viking's wife considered him as beautiful
as Baldur, and his distress raised her pity; but Helga said he ought
to have ropes fastened to his heels, and be tied to the tails of
wild animals.
"I would let the dogs loose after him" she said; "over the moor
and across the heath. Hurrah! that would be a spectacle for the
gods, and better still to follow in its course."
But the Viking would not allow him to die such a death as that,
especially as he was the disowned and despiser of the high gods. In
a few days, he had decided to have him offered as a sacrifice on the
blood-stone in the grove. For the first time, a man was to be
sacrificed here. Helga begged to be allowed to sprinkle the
assembled people with the blood of the priest. She sharpened her
glittering knife; and when one of the great, savage dogs, who were
running about the Viking's castle in great numbers, sprang towards
her, she thrust the knife into his side, merely, as she said, to prove
its sharpness.
The Viking's wife looked at the wild, badly disposed girl, with
great sorrow; and when night came on, and her daught
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