sword.

"You know my temper, and that I must have my will. Always I have thought
it shame that my kinsman's odal should lie in English hands, and now I
have made up my mind to put an end to it. You know that I am in no way
greedy for property. When I obtain the victory, you shall have every
acre and every stick on it to burn or plunder or keep, as best pleases
you. But I do not want to reproach myself longer with my neglect; and
whether it take two weeks or whether it take twenty--" He interrupted
himself to bend forward, shading his eyes with his hands. "If I am not
much mistaken," he said in quite another voice, "yonder is Brass Borgar
at last! Yonder, near those oak-trees."

In an instant they had all turned to scan the moon-lit open. And now
that they were silent, the thud of hoofs became distinct. Shouting their
welcome, some hurried to heap fresh fuel on the fire, and some ran after
more ale-skins; while others rushed forward to meet the messenger and
run beside his horse, riddling him with questions.

Folding his arms, the chief awaited him in grim silence. If glances
could have burned, he would have writhed under the look that a pair of
iris-blue eyes was dealing him over a bread crust. But it may be that
his skin was particularly thick, for he betrayed no uneasiness whatever.

When the man finally stood before him, Rothgar said sternly, "It is time
you were here! Ten days have gone over your head since I sent you out.
You must do one of two things,--either tell great tidings or submit to
sharp words."

The Brass One laughed as he saluted. "I should have been liable to sharp
steel had I come sooner, chief. Would you have taken it well if I had
left without knowing how it went with the battle?"

"Battle!" three-score mouths cried as with one voice. "Who were
victorious?"

The man laughed again. "Should I come to you with a noisy voice and
my chin held high, if other than one thing had happened? Honor to the
Thunderer, the Raven possessed the field!"

Such a clamor arose as though the wolf-pack had tasted blood. Three
times, through the trumpet of his hands, Rothgar bawled a command for
silence. "One horn you may have, then all this must be told before you
eat," he gave orders. And he strode restlessly to and fro until the
time came when the horn stood on end above the man's mouth and then was
lowered reluctantly.

Drawing his hand across his lips, the Brass One cleared his throat. "At
your pleasure, c