ed in that, it would be difficult to say. Blended with
rejoicing over their King's safety, were cries of bitter disappointment,
the cries of thirsty men who have seen wine dashed from their lips.

In their retreat, the two Northern jarls and the young monarch's
foster-father faced each other uncertainly. "Here is mystery!" Eric of
Norway said at last. "I should be thankful if you would tell me whether
he thought it unwise to kill the Englishman before the face of his army;
or whether he is in truth struck with love toward him, as the fools seem
to believe?"

"Or whether he had reached the exact limit of his strength so that he
was obliged to save himself by some trick of words?" Ulf Jarl suggested.

The Tall One shook his head slowly. "Now, as always, it is he alone who
can altogether explain his actions. It might easily be that in his mad
impatience he overvalued his strength, so that he was obliged to stop
short to keep within bounds. But I think you will find that there
is still some trick which is not open to our sight. His man-wit is
deepening very fast; I will not be so bold as to say that I can always
fathom it."

"Perhaps he thinks a short peace would be useful to the host," the
Norwegian said, and laughed. "Such a truce is as comfortable as a cloak
when the weather is stark, and as easy to get rid of when the sun comes
out."

By their faces, the others appeared to agree with him; but before they
could express themselves, a swimmer rose like a dripping seal out of the
water at their feet.

"Peace and division again!" he cried breathlessly. "And it is the King's
will that you get into a boat and come to him at once."

The rush of the crowd to the water-side to question the messenger gave
Randalin her chance for freedom; and she was not slow in taking it. A
moment more, and she was in the very top of the willow-tree, clasping
her hands and wringing them in alternate thanksgiving and terror.

"Whatever it bring upon me, I will get back to my woman's clothes," she
vowed to herself over and over. "Though it become a hindrance to me,
though it be the cause of my death, I will be a woman always. Odin
forgive me that I thought I had courage enough to be a man!"

Chapter XVIII. What The Red Cloak Hid

At eve, the day is to be praised;
A woman, after she is dead.
Ha'vama'l.

In the vault overhead blue had deepened into purple, and all the silver
star-lamps been hung out, their flam