urned, but he dared not to ask. He was very stupid on this
point. In regard to other things he was sharp-witted above his fellows.
None knew better than he how to guide the "warship" through the
intricate mazes of the island-studded coast of Norway; none equalled him
in deeds of arms; no one excelled him in speed of foot, in scaling the
fells, or in tracking the wolf and bear to their dens; but all beat him
in love-making! He was wondrously slow and obtuse at that, and could by
no means discover whether or not Hilda regarded him as a lover or a
brother. As uncertainty on this point continued, Erling became jealous
of all the young men who approached her, and in proportion as this
feeling increased his natural disposition changed, and his chafing
spirit struggled fiercely within him. But his native good sense and
modesty enabled him pretty well to conceal his feelings. As for Hilda,
no one knew the state of her mind. It is probable that at this time she
herself had not a very distinct idea on the point.

Hilda had a foster-sister named Ada, who was also very beautiful. She
was unusually dark for a Norse maiden. Her akin indeed was fair, but
her hair and eyes were black like the raven's wing. Her father was King
Hakon of Drontheim.

It was the custom in those warlike days for parents to send out some of
their children to be fostered by others--in order, no doubt, to render
next to impossible the total extirpation of their families at a time
when sudden descents upon households were common. By thus scattering
their children the chances of family annihilation were lessened, and the
probability that some members might be left alive to take revenge was
greatly increased.

Hilda and Ada were warmly attached. Having been brought up together,
they loved each other as sisters--all the more, perhaps, that in
character they were somewhat opposed. Hilda was grave, thoughtful,
almost pensive. Ada was full of vivacity and mirth, fond of fun, and by
no means averse to a little of what she styled harmless mischief.

Now there was a man in Horlingdal called Glumm, surnamed the Gruff, who
loved Ada fervently. He was a stout, handsome man, of ruddy complexion,
and second only to Erling in personal strength and prowess. But by
nature he was morose and gloomy. Nothing worse, however, could be said
of him. In other respects he was esteemed a brave, excellent man.
Glumm was too proud to show his love to Ada very plainly; b