gave it me, and that I must thank him for such a gift. The sword
though it was sheathed, was not girt to him, and its golden-studded
belt was twisted about it, and it was no imperfect giving.

So I spoke in a low voice:

"Jarl Sigurd, I thank you. If my might is aught, the sword will be
used as you would have used it. Surely I will say to Einar that you
rest in peace, and we will come here and close your mound again in
all honour."

I set back his hand then, and it seemed empty and helpless, not as
a warrior's should be. So I ungirt my own weapon--a good plain
sword that I had won from a viking in Caithness--and laid it in the
place of that he had given me. And as I put the thin fingers on its
hilt, almost thinking that they would chose around it, a ring
slipped from them into my hand, as if he would give that also, and
I kept it therefore.

Then for a minute I stood before Jarl Sigurd, waiting to see if he
had any word; but when he spoke not, I lifted the sword and saluted
him.

"Skoal to Jarl Sigurd; rest in peace, and farewell."

Then I went forth softly, and came out into sunshine; for the wind
was singing round the hilltops, and the dun mist had gone. Then I
was ware that the sound of the stone on the sword edge had long
ceased, and I looked for Kolgrim.

He was lying on the grass in the place where I had left him, but he
was on his face, and the sword and whetstone were flung aside from
him. At first I feared that he had been in some way slain because
of his terror; but when I came near, I saw that his shoulders
heaved as if he wept. Then I stood over him, treading softly.

"Kolgrim," I said.

At that he looked up, and a great light came into his face, and he
sprang to his feet and threw his arms round me, weeping, yet with a
strong man's weeping that does but come from bitter grief.

"Master," he cried, "O master I thought you lost--and I dared not
follow you."

"I have met with no peril," I said, "nor have I been long gone."

"More than two hours, master, have you been in that place--two long
hours. See how the sun has sunk since you left me!"

So indeed it seemed, though I knew not that I had been so long. I
had stayed still and gazed on that strange sight without stirring
for what seemed but a little while. Yet I had thought long thoughts
in that time, and I mind every single thing in that dim chamber,
even to the markings on the stones that made its walls and roof and
floor.

"See," I sai