," said Olaf, cheerily. "You know that when we get
comfortably settled in Vinland we shall send the ship back for your
father, and mine too, and for everybody in Ericsfiord and Heriulfness.
Why, we're going to forsake Greenland altogether and never go back to it
any more. Oh! I am _so_ glad."

"I wish, I _wish_ I had never come," said Bertha, with a renewed flow of
tears, for Olaf's consolations were thrown away on her.

It chanced that Freydissa came at that moment upon the poop, where
Karlsefin stood at the helm, and Gudrid with some others were still
gazing at the distant shore.

Freydissa was one of those women who appear to have been born women by
mistake--who are always chafing at their unfortunate fate, and
endeavouring to emulate--even to overwhelm--men; in which latter effort
they are too frequently successful. She was a tall elegant woman of
about thirty years of age, with a decidedly handsome face, though
somewhat sharp of feature. She possessed a powerful will, a shrill
voice and a vigorous frame, and was afflicted with a short, violent
temper. She was decidedly a masculine woman. We know not which is the
more disagreeable of the two--a masculine woman or an effeminate man.

But perhaps the most prominent feature in her character was her
volubility when enraged,--the copiousness of her vocabulary and the
tremendous force with which she shot forth her ideas and abuse in short
abrupt sentences.

Now, if there was one thing more than another that roused the ire of
Freydissa, it was the exhibition of feminine weakness in the shape of
tears. She appeared to think that the credit of her sex in reference to
firmness and self-command was compromised by such weakness. She herself
never wept by any chance, and she was always enraged when she saw any
other woman relieve her feelings in that way. When, therefore, she came
on deck and found her own handmaid with her pretty little face swelled,
or, as she expressed it, "begrutten," and heard her express a wish that
she had never left home, she lost command of herself--a loss that she
always found it easy to come by--and, seizing Bertha by the shoulder,
ordered her down into the cabin instantly.

Bertha sobbingly obeyed, and Freydissa followed. "Don't be hard on her,
poor soul," murmured Thorward.

Foolish fellow! How difficult it is for man--ancient or modern--to
learn when to hold his tongue! That suggestion would have fixed
Freydissa's determination