or, by the head of Odin, you shall feel my fangs! You say that my will
is like the wind's will. Can you not see why, dull brutes that you are?
Because it is not my will, but yours,--now Rothgar's beast-fierceness,
now your low-minded craft. Because I am not content with myself, I
listen to you. And you--you--Oh, leave me, leave me, before I lose my
human nature and go mad like a dog! Leave--You laugh!" As he caught
sight of Rothgar, he interrupted himself with a roar. His hand shot to
his belt and plucking forth the jewelled knife that hung there, hurled
it, a glittering streak, at the grinning face. If it had reached home,
one of Rothgar's eyes would have gone out in darkness.

But the son of Lodbrok had known his royal foster-brother too long to be
taken by surprise. Throwing up a wooden platter like a shield, he
caught the quivering blade in its bottom, whence he drew it forth with
good-humored composure.

"If you wish to give a friend a present, King, you should not throw it
at him so angrily," he suggested. "Had you given me the sheath too, your
gift would have been doubly dear."

The fiery spots in Canute's cheeks deepened and spread. He turned away
without answering, and stood a long time beating his fingers on the
table in a sharp tattoo.

What does it mean, the pause that follows the storm, when Nature's
accumulated discontent has vented itself in a passionate outbreak? The
trees stand motionless, with hanging heads; the blue of the clearing sky
is divinely tender; under the spangling drops, the flowers look up like
tear-filled eyes. Does it mean repentance, or only exhaustion?

Gradually the color flowed back to the young King's eyes and softened
them; gradually his mouth relaxed from its fierce lines and drooped in
bitter curves. When at last his fingers stopped their nervous beat,
it was to unfasten the sheath of chased gold which was attached to his
waist, and stretch it out to Rothgar.

"Have it your own way," he said gravely. "It is right that I pay some
fine; I have a troll's temper. Take the sheath. But do not make the
mistake again of laughing at me because you cannot understand me. But
one person may do that and live; and that person is a woman, and my
wife... There is a strange feeling in my heart that we have begun to
travel different paths, you and I,--and that it is because we no longer
walk on the same level of ground, that we no longer see any object in
the same light... And my mind te