d been in the Varangian Guard, and
sometimes of the sad doom of his fore-elder Gisli, who had been
cursed even before he was born.

He did not often speak of Gisli; for the man ruled him across the
gulf of centuries, and he was always unhappy when he gave way to
the temptation to do so; for he could not get rid of the sense of
kinship with him, nor of the memory of that withering spaedom with
which the first Gisli had been cursed by the wronged thrall who slew
him--"_This is but the beginning of the ill luck which I will bring
on thy kith and kin after thee._"

Never had he felt the brooding gloom of this wretched heirship so
vividly as on the night when he first met Karen Sabiston. Karen lived
with her aunt Matilda Sabiston, the richest woman in Lerwick and
the chief pillar of the kirk and its societies. On that night the
best knitters in Lerwick were gathered at her house, knitting the
fine, lace-like shawls which were to be sold at the next foy for some
good cause which the minister should approve. They were weary of
their own talk, and longing for Liot to come and tell them a story.
And some of the young girls whispered to Karen, "When Liot Borson
opens the door, then you will see the handsomest man in the islands."

"I have seen fine men in Yell and Unst," answered Karen; "I think
I shall see no handsomer ones in Lerwick. Is he fair or dark?"

"He is a straight-faced, bright-faced man, tall and strong, who
can tell a story so that you will be carried off your feet and away
wherever he chooses to take you."

"I have done always as Karen Sabiston was minded to do; and now I
will not be moved this way or that way as some one else minds."

"As to that we shall see." And as Thora Glumm spoke Liot came into
the room.

"The wind is blowing dead on shore, and the sea is like a man gone
out of his wits," he said.

And Matilda answered, "Well, then, Liot, come to the fire." And as
they went toward the fire she stopped before a lovely girl and said,
"Look, now, this is my niece Karen; she has just come from Yell, and
she can tell a story also; so it will be, which can better the other."

Then Liot looked at Karen, and the girl looked up at him; in that
instant their souls remembered each other. They put their hands
together like old lovers, and if Liot had drawn her to his heart
and kissed her Karen would not have been much astonished. This sweet
reciprocity was, however, so personal that onlookers did not see it,