had so interested his
hearers that they gazed in his face and hung upon his words with rapt
attention, while he detailed the incidents of the combats with a degree
of fluency and fervour that would have thrown the oratory of Glumm and
Kettle quite into the shade had it been told in the hall.

While Erling was thus engaged, his friend Glumm, having finished the
recital of his adventures for the twentieth time, and at the same time
eaten a good supper, was advised by his companions to have the wound in
his head looked to.

"What! hast thou not had it dressed yet?" asked Ulf; "why, that is very
foolish. Knowest thou not that a neglected wound may compass thy death?
Come hither, Ada; thy fingers are skilled in such offices. Take Glumm
to an inner chamber, and see if thou canst put his head to rights."

"Methinks," cried Guttorm Stoutheart, with a laugh, "that she is more
likely to put his heart wrong than his head right with these wicked
black eyes of hers. Have a care, Glumm: they pierce deeper than the
sword of the berserk."

Ada pretended not to hear this, but she appeared by no means displeased,
as she led Glumm to an inner chamber, whither they were followed by
Alric, whose pugnacious soul had been quite fascinated by the story of
the recent fight, and who was never tired of putting questions as to
minute points.

As Glumm sat down on a low stool to enable Ada to get at his head, she
said (for she was very proud of her lover's prowess, and her heart
chanced to be in a melting mood that night), "Thou hast done well
to-day, it would seem?"

"It is well thou thinkest so," replied Glumm curtly, remembering
Erling's advice.--"No, boy," he added, in reply to Alric, "I did not
kill the one with the black helmet; it was Erling who gave him his
deathblow."

"Did Hake the berserk look _dreadfully_ fierce?" asked Alric.

"He made a few strange faces," replied Glumm.

"The wound is but slight," observed Ada, in a tone that indicated a
little displeasure at the apparent indifference of her lover.

"It might have been worse," replied Glumm.

"Do tell me all about it again," entreated Alric.

"Not now," said Glumm; "I'll repeat it when Hilda is by; she has not
heard it yet--methinks she would like to hear it."

"Hilda like to hear it!" cried the lad, with a shout of laughter; "why,
she detests fighting almost as much as the hermit does, though, I must
say, for a man who hates it, he can do it wonderfully well hims