ow each other--But O!" she said, growing exceeding eager,
"dost thou know how good a gift thou has given me? For the halves of
the penny, we shall both keep them for ever, as thou knowest, and by
our having them we shall know each other if we meet in the world
without and our faces have become changed."

Said Osberne: "I deem not that my face will change very much, at least
not till I grow old--nor do I think that thine will either." She
laughed merrily: "O, bairn Osberne, when thou art become a man and a
great man, and art called maybe Earl Osberne Wulfgrimsson, will not
thy face have changed, and thou with the beard and the fierce eyes,
and the mouth that hath shouted in the battle? As for me, Allhallows
grant it that my face may change: look at me, a kind of red crow now,
all skinny and spindle-legged, and yet I may grow to be a fair woman;
and then indeed I should be fain for thee to see me. For somehow it
seems to be shown to me that thou wilt be loved of women & love them
somewhat over-much."

"For my part," said Osberne, "I seem to see of myself that I shall
have much to do slaying wolves and evil things, and standing before
kings and getting gifts of them, so that there will be little time for
me to go about loving women--yet thee I shall ever love, Elfhild."
And he reddened as he spake this, as though he were a youth before his
time. But Elfhild said: "In all ways thou art kind to me, and thee
shall I ever love. But now tell me, Osberne, what wouldst thou have me
do today to make game and play for thee?" Said he: "Call up the sheep
again to thee with the sweet little pipe, for therein is much game."
She nodded her head merrily, and drew forth her pipe and played, and
the sheep came bundling up as the day before; and she danced and
played a long while, and Osberne clapped his hands and laughed and
egged her on, and was full fain of her dancing, and forsooth it was a
wonder and delight to see her.

At last she was wearied out, and cast herself on the grass at the very
edge of the cliff, and said that she could no more. And Osberne
thanked her kindly.

So when she had gotten her breath again, she asked him what next she
should do for his disport. And he bade tell him of how she lived with
those two women, her aunts, and what she did from day to day. So she
sat down as on the other day, with her legs hanging down over the
grisly flood, and told him full sweetly of her joys and her work and
her troubles. And so