"I am conquered!" he went on with a
cheerful air. "The fight is over, Valdemar! Surely I have had a long
battle, and the time for rest and reward is welcome." He was silent for
a little, then continued, "Tell me--how--where didst thou find me? It
seems I had a dream, strange, and glorious--then came a rushing sound of
wheels and clanging bells,--and after that, a long deep silence."

Speaking in low tones, Valdemar briefly related the events of the past
night. How he had heard the reindeer's gallop down the road, and the
quick jangling of the bells on their harness, and had concluded that the
_bonde_ was returning home at extraordinary speed--how these sounds had
suddenly and unaccountably ceased,--how, after waiting for some time,
and hearing nothing more, he had become greatly alarmed, and, taking a
pine-torch, had gone out to see what had occurred,--how he had found the
reindeer standing by the broken sledge in the gully, and how, after some
search, he had finally discovered his master, lying half-covered by the
snow, and grievously injured. How he had lifted him and carried him into
the house, . . .

"By my soul!" interrupted the _bonde_ cheerfully, "thou must have found
me no light weight, Valdemar! See what a good thing it is to be a
man--with iron muscles, and strong limbs, and hardy nerve! By the Hammer
of Thor! the glorious gift of strong manhood is never half appreciated!
As for me--I am a man no longer!"

He sighed a little, and, passing his sinewy hand across his brow, lay
back exhausted. He was racked by bodily torture, but,--unflinching old
hero as he was,--gave no sign of the agonizing pain he suffered.
Valdemar Svensen had risen from his knees, and now stood gazing at him
with yearning, miserable eyes, his brown, weather-beaten visage heavily
marked with lines of grief and despair. He knew that he was utterly
powerless--that nothing could save the noble life that was ebbing slowly
away before him. His long and varied experience as a sailor, pilot, and
traveller in many countries had given him some useful knowledge of
medicine and surgery, and if anything was possible to be done, he could
do it. But in this case no medical skill would have been availing--the
old man's ribs were crushed in and his spine injured,--his death was a
question of but a few hours at the utmost, if so long.

"Olaf the King!" muttered the _bonde_ presently, "True! They make no
mistakes yonder,--they know each warrior by name and