n the old way--seeing one another and learning what shall be best
for both--all will be well. Be content. Your place and hers lie in
ruins. Why, Redwald, what home have you to give her?"

Now that word of common sense was the best that he could have
spoken, for I was waxing angry at being thus played with, as I
thought. But at that moment Olaf and Ottar came in with clang and
ring of mail and sword, and so no more was said, and soon Ailwin
rose to depart. But I followed him out, and asked him for the last
time:

"Will you not tell me where Hertha bides?"

"No, my son--not yet. Believe me it is best."

"Well, then," I answered, "I shall try to find her; but if I
cannot, you mind what I said."

"I will not forget. But I will add this--that there are many fair
maidens, and but one Hertha."

Then he turned away into the dark, and was gone with an uplifting
of his hand in parting blessing. I knew the good man loved me, and
now I was sorry that I had spoken harshly to him, yet I had a
feeling that I had been treated ill. Maybe that was foolish, but
one acts on foolish thoughts often enough.

There was a man sitting on the settle in the porch of the house as
I turned back. I had not noticed him as we came out. Now the
firelight from the half-open door fell on his face, and I saw that
it was one of those two thralls of mine.

"Ho, Brand," I said, "answer me truly. Know you where bides Dame
Gunnhild the witch?"

"No, lord. We know not where she bides but it is not far hence, for
we see her at times in the village, though not often."

"How did she escape when the Danes came?"

"She and the lady Hertha took boat--it was but three days after you
had gone. All the men had fled as she bade them, but her brother
came and helped her with the boat. They went into the mere, and
that was the last we saw of them."

Now I remembered to have heard of Gunnhild's brother, but I had
never seen him.

"Where does her brother live?" I asked.

"I know not. I have not seen him again," answered the man.

"Whence comes Dame Gunnhild into the village?" I went on, thinking
that I might learn somewhat in that way.

"Master," said Brand, "she comes at twilight, nor will she have
anyone follow her. Ill would it fare with the man who did so. I do
not know whence she comes."

Now it seemed to me that the man had more in his mind than that,
and at least that there must be some talk about the place, which is
small enough to make the doi