r had
told her in the days of her happiness. That seemed for a moment to
bring Einar within touching distance.

Meantime Heriolf came on board and greeted Thorbeorn fairly. He was a
hale old man, with white hair and beard, and twinkling blue eyes. "You
will do well," he said, "to stay with me through the winter. This is
an unchancy country in winter time, what with fog and scurvy and one
thing and another. In Iceland you do better, because you have the
wind--but here the fog smothers everything. If my son Biorn were at
home he could tell you of a new country, my word! But he's away, and
no telling when he will be here again. Now, if you are willing, we
will be going. My people will see to the housing of yours, and the
stock shall be looked after as if it was my own. But you and your girl
here will be happy to be by a hearth again."

So it was done. They found Heriolf a good host, his house well built
and well stored. He had a comely wife, too, who took kindly to Gudrid.
"That's a paragon of a girl you have there," Heriolf said. "If my son
were at home I don't know how it would turn out."

"She's not for every one," said Thorbeorn, on his dignity at once.

"But my son Biorn is some one, let me tell you," said Heriolf. "He is
a traveller who has seen more of the world than any man living, I dare
say. And here in Greenland, you must know, a woman is a precious piece
of goods. There was a woman brought in here last summer with a sick
man who died before he had been a week in bed. Before he was buried
there were six men fighting who should be her next. And two of them
were killed outright; but none of them got her."

"Would she have none of them?" Thorbeorn asked, though he was not at
all interested.

"She had no opportunity," said Heriolf. "For another man came and took
her away before they had done fighting."

Thorbeorn held his head stiffly. "But my daughter is greatly
descended," he said. "And Eric Red is of my friends."

"All that may be," said Heriolf, "but your daughter is a woman, and
Eric Red himself no more than a man. In this country you have to deal
with people as God made them. But there is a wise woman in the town,
and maybe she will tell us what is written in the book of life."

"My daughter is a Christian," said Thorbeorn, but old Heriolf's mouth
twitched.

"I dare swear she will be wanting to know what the book of life says,
for all that. Let me tell you that a marriage is