er with your aid, I hope that
you will spend next winter with us."

"I agree to that," said Leif; "but I must first visit Greenland in
spring, and then return to you. And now, tell me what you think of the
two thralls King Olaf sent me."

Karlsefin's brow clouded a little as he replied that they were excellent
men in all respects--cheerful, willing, and brave.

"So should I have expected of men sent to me by the King," said Leif,
"but I have noticed that the elder is very sad. Does he pine for his
native land, think ye?"

"Doubtless he does," answered Karlsefin; "but I am tempted to think that
he, like some others among us, pines for an absent sweetheart."

"Not unlikely, not unlikely," observed Leif, looking gravely at the
ground. "And the younger lad, Hake, what of him? He, I think, seems
well enough pleased to remain, if one may judge from his manner and
countenance."

"There is reason for that," returned Karlsefin, with a recurrence of the
troubled expression. "The truth is that Hake is in love with Bertha."

"The thrall?" exclaimed Leif.

"Ay, and he has gone the length of speaking to her of love; I know it,
for I heard him."

"What! does Karlsefin condescend to turn eavesdropper?" said Leif,
looking at his friend in surprise.

"Not so, but I chanced to come within earshot at the close of an
interview they had, and heard a few words in spite of myself. It was in
summer. I was walking through the woods, and suddenly heard voices near
me in the heart of a copse through which I must needs pass. Thinking
nothing about it I advanced and saw Hake and Bertha partially concealed
by the bushes. Suddenly Hake cried passionately, `I cannot help it,
Bertha. I _must_ tell you that I love you if I should die for it;' to
which Bertha replied, `It is useless, Hake; neither Leif nor Karlsefin
will consent, and I shall never oppose their will.' Then Hake said,
`You are right, Bertha, right--forgive me--.' At this point I felt
ashamed of standing still, and turned back lest I should overhear more."

"He is a thrall--a thrall," murmured Leif sternly, as if musing.

"And yet he is a Scottish earl's son," said Karlsefin. "It does seem a
hard case to be a thrall. I wonder if the new religion teaches anything
regarding thraldom."

Leif looked up quickly into his friend's face, but Karlsefin had turned
his head aside as if in meditation, and no further allusion was made to
that subject by either of them.

"D