Let me hear the old tongue again
before I die."

Now, it is in no wise easy to be told to talk without a hint in the
way of question on which to begin, and I hesitated. Gerda asked me
softly what was amiss, and I told her in a few words. The old
hermit looked kindly at her, but did not speak.

"Tell him of your home," she said. "Tell him without saying aught
of the end of it."

I did so, slowly at first, for the words would not come, and then
better as I went on. The old man listened, and the tears came into
his eyes.

"Ah, the old days," he said, when I stopped. "Your voice is a voice
from the days that are gone, and the old tongue comes back to me,
with the sound of the piper on the hill and the harper in the hall,
with the sough of the summer wind in the fir trees, and the lash of
the waves on the rocks. Oh, my son, my son, I would that you had
never come here to make me mind the things that are dead."

Now he was trembling, and I took his white hand and set it on my
arm to steady him. His hand felt the cold touch of the great gold
bracelet Gerda would have me wear, and he looked at it, and turned
it in his fingers.

"Jarl, and son of a jarl," he whispered. "War and flame, and the
cry of the victors! Oh, my son, you mind me of bitter things."

"I and mine have never hurt Christian folk, father," I said,
knowing what he meant.

The sword and fire had fallen heavily on the Scottish islands when
the Norseman first came thither. But surely he could not mind that.

Thereafter Phelim told me that he thought the old man spoke of the
burning of some monastery on the mainland of Scotland, whence he
had fled, with those of his brethren who escaped, to Ireland,
coming hither at last to end his days in peace. But I heard no more
from himself now. What I had just spoken turned his thoughts
afresh, and I was glad.

"Then you are a heathen; and this lady also?"

"We are Odin's folk," I answered. "I suppose that is what you mean,
father."

"Yet I think now that I saw you once in the chapel."

"You may do so again, father, if it is permitted by you. I have
heard naught but good words there."

His eyes brightened, and he smiled at me.

"You know nothing of the faith then?" he asked.

I shook my head. I had heard never a word of it until I met my
friends.

"We will teach you," he said eagerly. "Sit here, my children, in
this warm place, and let me tell you somewhat thereof. It may be
the last time I may teach t