r which smeared his face so disguised his person and original
features that not even his friends knew him. But when he wiped off the
filth, he made himself recognizable by those who saw him, and inspired
the king with the greatest eagerness to hear about his quest. But the
detraction of his rivals was not yet silenced; and some pretended that
the king would die suddenly if he learnt Thorkill's tidings. The king
was the more disposed to credit this saying, because he was already
credulous by reason of a dream which falsely prophesied the same thing.
Men were therefore hired by the king's command to slay Thorkill in the
night. But somehow he got wind of it, left his bed unknown to all, and
put a heavy log in his place. By this he baffled the treacherous device
of the king, for the hirelings smote only the stock.

On the morrow Thorkill went up to the king as he sat at meat, and said:
"I forgive thy cruelty and pardon thy error, in that thou hast decreed
punishment, and not thanks, to him who brings good tidings of his
errand. For thy sake I have devoted my life to all these afflictions,
and battered it in all these perils; I hoped that thou wouldst requite
my services with much gratitude; and behold! I have found thee, and thee
alone, punish my valour sharpliest. But I forbear all vengeance, and
am satisfied with the shame within thy heart--if, after all, any shame
visits the thankless--as expiation for this wrongdoing towards me. I
have a right to surmise that thou art worse than all demons in fury,
and all beasts in cruelty, if, after escaping the snares of all these
monsters, I have failed to be safe from thine."

The king desired to learn everything from Thorkill's own lips; and,
thinking it hard to escape destiny, bade him relate what had happened
in due order. He listened eagerly to his recital of everything, till
at last, when his own god was named, he could not endure him to
be unfavourably judged. For he could not bear to hear Utgarda-Loki
reproached with filthiness, and so resented his shameful misfortunes,
that his very life could not brook such words, and he yielded it up in
the midst of Thorkill's narrative. Thus, whilst he was so zealous in the
worship of a false god, he came to find where the true prison of sorrows
really was. Moreover, the reek of the hair, which Thorkill plucked from
the locks of the giant to testify to the greatness of his own deeds, was
exhaled upon the bystanders, so that many perished