for the dead, Swanhild," he answered.

"Weep not for the dead--they are at peace; if thou must weep, weep for
the living. Nay, weep not at all; rejoice rather that thou art here to
mourn. Hast thou no word of greeting for me who have not heard thy voice
these many months?"

"How shall I greet thee, Swanhild, who would never have seen thy face
again if I might have had my will? Knowest thou that yesternight, as we
laboured in yonder Firth, we saw a shape walking the waters to lead
us to our doom? How shall I greet thee, Swanhild, who art a witch and
evil?"

"And knowest thou, Eric, that yesternight I woke from sleep, having
dreamed that thou didst lie upon the shore, and thus I saved thee alive,
as perchance I have saved thee aforetime? If thou didst see a shape
walking the waters it was that shape which led thee here. Hadst thou
sailed on, not only those thou mournest, but Skallagrim and thou thyself
had now been numbered with the lost."

"Better so than thus," said Brighteyes. "Knowest thou also, Swanhild,
that when last night my life came back again in Atli's hall, methought
that Atli's wife leaned over me and kissed me on the lips? That was an
ill dream, Swanhild."

"Some had found it none so ill, Eric," she made answer, looking on him
strangely. "Still, it was but a dream. Thou didst dream that Atli's wife
breathed back the breath of life into thy pale lips--be sure of it thou
didst but dream. Ah, Eric, fear me no more; forget the evil that I have
wrought in the blindness and folly of my youth. Now things are otherwise
with me. Now I am a wedded wife and faithful hearted to my lord. Now, if
I still love thee, it is with a sister's love. Therefore forget my
sins, remember only that as children we played upon the Iceland fells.
Remember that, as boy and girl, we rode along the marshes, while the
sea-mews clamoured round our heads. The world is cold, Eric, and few
are the friends we find in it; many are already gone, and soon the
friendless dark draws near. So put me not away, my brother and my
friend; but, for a little space, whilst thou art here in Atli's hall,
let us walk hand in hand as we walked long years ago in Iceland,
gathering up the fifa-bloom, and watching the midnight shadows creep up
the icy joekul's crest."

Thus Swanhild spoke to him most sweetly, in a low voice of music, while
the tears gathered in her eyes, talking ever of Iceland that he loved,
and of days long dead, till Eric's heart softene