he brooch. As a dog
snatches food she snatched it, and turned to the bed. Thorgunna lay on
her side; it was to be thought she slept, but she talked the while to
herself, and her lips moved. It seemed her years returned to her in
slumber, for her face was grey and her brow knotted; and the open eyes of
her stared in the eyes of Aud. The heart of the foolish woman died in
her bosom; but her greed was the stronger, and she fled with that which
she had stolen.

When she was back in bed, the word of Thorgunna came to her mind, that
these things were for no use but to be shown. Here she had the brooch
and the shame of it, and might not wear it. So all night she quaked with
the fear of discovery, and wept tears of rage that she should have sinned
in vain. Day came, and Aud must rise; but she went about the house like
a crazy woman. She saw the eyes of Asdis rest on her strangely, and at
that she beat the maid. She scolded the house folk, and, by her way of
it, nothing was done aright. First she was loving to her husband and
made much of him, thinking to be on his good side when trouble came. Then
she took a better way, picked a feud with him, and railed on the poor man
till his ears rang, so that he might be in the wrong beforehand. The
brooch she hid without, in the side of a hayrick. All this while
Thorgunna lay in the bed-place, which was not her way, for by custom she
was early astir. At last she came forth, and there was that in her face
that made all the house look one at the other and the heart of Aud to be
straitened. Never a word the guest spoke, not a bite she swallowed, and
they saw the strong shudderings take and shake her in her place. Yet a
little, and still without speech, back she went into her bad-place, and
the door was shut.

"That is a sick wife," said Finnward, "Her weird has come on her."

And at that the heart of Aud was lifted up with hope.

All day Thorgunna lay on her bed, and the next day sent for Finnward.

"Finnward Keelfarer," said she, "my trouble is come upon me, and I am at
the end of my days."

He made the customary talk.

"I have had my good things; now my hour is come; and let suffice," quoth
she. "I did not send for you to hear your prating."

Finnward knew not what to answer, for he saw her soul was dark.

"I sent for you on needful matters," she began again. "I die here--I!--in
this black house, in a bleak island, far from all decency and proper ways
of man; an