ts of fair hair that lay forward on shoulder and breast, down
to the ivory-studded girdle where the axe gleamed.

Sweyn and his mother led the stranger to the hearth without
question or sign of curiosity, till she voluntarily told her tale
of a long journey to distant kindred, a promised guide unmet, and
signals and landmarks mistaken.

"Alone!" exclaimed Sweyn in astonishment. "Have you journeyed thus
far, a hundred leagues, alone?"

She answered "Yes" with a little smile.

"Over the hills and the wastes! Why, the folk there are savage and
wild as beasts."

She dropped her hand upon her axe with a laugh of some scorn.

"I fear neither man nor beast; some few fear me." And then she
told strange tales of fierce attack and defence, and of the bold
free huntress life she had led.

Her words came a little slowly and deliberately, as though she
spoke in a scarce familiar tongue; now and then she hesitated, and
stopped in a phrase, as though for lack of some word.

She became the centre of a group of listeners. The interest she
excited dissipated, in some degree, the dread inspired by the
mysterious voices. There was nothing ominous about this young,
bright, fair reality, though her aspect was strange.

Little Rol crept near, staring at the stranger with all his might.
Unnoticed, he softly stroked and patted a corner of her soft white
robe that reached to the floor in ample folds. He laid his cheek
against it caressingly, and then edged up close to her knees.

"What is your name?" he asked.

The stranger's smile and ready answer, as she looked down, saved
Rol from the rebuke merited by his unmannerly question.

"My real name," she said, "would be uncouth to your ears and
tongue. The folk of this country have given me another name, and
from this" (she laid her hand on the fur robe) "they call me
'White Fell.'"

Little Rol repeated it to himself, stroking and patting as before.
"White Fell, White Fell."

The fair face, and soft, beautiful dress pleased Rol. He knelt up,
with his eyes on her face and an air of uncertain determination,
like a robin's on a doorstep, and plumped his elbows into her lap
with a little gasp at his own audacity.

"Rol!" exclaimed his aunt; but, "Oh, let him!" said White Fell,
smiling and stroking his head; and Rol stayed.

He advanced farther, and panting at his own adventurousness in the
face of his aunt's authority, climbed up on to her knees. Her
welcoming arms hindered any pro