-thrust, I doubt not that she would have let his base blood run
from her veins long ere this."

He turned to where Helga stood watching him, her heart in her eyes, and
pulled her toward him and kissed her.

"You chose between honor and riches, kinswoman," he said, "but while
there is a ring in my pouch you shall never lack property; you have
behaved like a true Norse maiden, and I am free now to say that I honor
you for it. Go the way your heart desires, without further hindrance."

Helga stayed to press his hand to her cheek; then, before them all,
without a thought of shame, she went the way that ended in her lover's
arms.

They stood side by side in the gilded prow, and he kissed her eyes twice
for every tear they had shed; and he kissed her mouth thrice three
times, and not a man in the whole world rose up to prevent him. Side by
side, they stood in the flying bow, a divinely modelled figure-head,
gilded by the light of love.

CONCLUSION

As the sun's last beams were fading from the mountain tops, the
exploring vessel dropped anchor before Eric's ship-sheds and the eager
groups that had gathered on the shore at the first signal. Not only
idlers made up the throng, but the Red One himself was there, and
Thorwald and every soul from Brattahlid; and with them half the
high-born men of Greenland, who had lived for the last month as Eric's
guests, that they might be on hand for this occasion. They shoved and
jostled each other like schoolboys, as they crowded down to meet the
first boat-load.

The ten sailors who stepped ashore were a prosperous looking band. Their
arms were full of queer pets; their pouches were stuffed with samples of
wood and samples of wheat, and with nuts and with raisins. All were
sleek and fat with a year's good living, and all jubilant with happiness
and a sense of their own importance. Even while their arms were clasping
their sweethearts' necks, they began to hint at their brave adventures
and to boast of the grain and the timber and the wine. The home-keepers
heard just enough to set their curiosity leaping and dancing with
eagerness for more. And each succeeding boat-load of burly heroes worked
their enthusiasm to a higher pitch.

Then, gradually, the song ran into a minor key, as Thorir's pitiful crew
landed upon the sand. Haggard and worn and almost too weak to walk, they
clung to the brawny arms of their rescuers; and the horrors of their
privations were written in pitiless