for the sight of it."

"That is thy matter, thou lovesick fool. Know this: that if Eric comes
hither and gets speech with Gudruda, there is an end of thy hopes; for,
fair as thou art, she is too fair for thee, and, strong as thou art, in
a way she is too strong. Thou hast heard how these two love, and such
loves mock at the will of fathers. Eric will win his desire or die
beneath the swords of Asmund and Bjoern, if such men can prevail against
his might. Nay, the wolf Eric must be fenced from the lamb till he grows
hungry. Then let him search the fold and make spoil of thee, for, when
the best is gone, he will desire the good."

"So be it, mother. As I sat crouched behind Gudruda in the snow at
Coldback, I had half a mind to end her love-words with this knife, for
so I should have been free of her."

"Yes, and fast in the doom-ring, thou wildcat. The gods help this Eric,
if thou winnest him. Nay, choose thy time and, if thou must strike,
strike secretly and home. Remember also that cunning is mightier than
strength, that lies pierce further than swords, and that witchcraft wins
where honesty must fail. Now I will go to Asmund, and he shall be an
angry man before to-morrow comes."

Then Groa went to the shut bed where Asmund the Priest slept. He was
sitting on the bed and asked her why she came.

"For love of thee, Asmund, and thy house, though thou dost treat me ill,
who hast profited so much by me and my foresight. Say now: wilt thou
that this daughter of thine, Gudruda the Fair, should be the light May
of yonder long-legged yeoman?"

"That is not in my mind," said Asmund, stroking his beard.

"Knowest thou, then, that this very day your white Gudruda sat on Eric's
lap in the snow, while he fondled her to his heart's content?"

"Most likely it was for warmth. Men do not dream on love in the hour of
death. Who saw this?"

"Swanhild, who was behind, and hid herself for shame, and therefore she
held that these two must soon be wed! Ah, thou art foolish now, Asmund.
Young blood makes light of cold or death. Art thou blind, or dost thou
not see that these two turn on each other like birds at nesting-time?"

"They might do worse," said Asmund, "for they are a proper pair, and it
seems to me that each was born for each."

"Then all goes well. Still, it is a pity to see so fair a maid cast like
rotten bait upon the waters to hook this troutlet of a yeoman. Thou hast
enemies, Asmund; thou art too prosperous, and th