boy is desirous of,
now that Hord is drowned."

The girl saw his purpose, and nodded quickly. "It is unlikely that you
can make a better bargain anywhere."

She turned to examine the slaves, and her eyes immediately encountered
Alwin's. She did not blush; she looked him up and down critically, as if
he were a piece of armor, or a horse. It was he who flushed, with sudden
shame and anger, as he realized that in the eyes of this beautiful Norse
maiden he was merely an animal put up for sale.

"Yonder is a handsome thrall," she said; "he looks as though his
strength were such that he could stand something."

"True it is that he cannot a lame wolf be who with the pack from
Greenland is to run," Tyrker assented. "That it was, which to Hord was a
hindrance. For sport only, Egil Olafson under the water took him down
and held him there; and because to get away he was not strong enough, he
was drowned. But to me it seems that this one would bite. How dear would
this thrall be?"

"You would have to pay for him three marks of silver," said the trader.
"He is an English thrall, very strong and well-shaped." He came over to
where Alwin sat, and stood him up and turned him round and bent his
limbs, Alwin submitting as a caged tiger submits to the lash, and with
much the same look about his mouth.

Tyrker caught the look, and sat for a long while blinking doubtfully at
him. But he was a shrewd old fellow, and at last he drew his money-bag
from his girdle and handed it to the trader to be weighed. While this
was being done, he bade one of the servants strike off the boy's
fetters.

The trader paused, scales in hand, to remonstrate. "It is my advice that
you keep them on until you sail. I will not conceal it from you that he
has an unruly disposition. You will be lacking both your man and your
money."

The old man smiled quietly. "Ach, my friend," he said, "can you not
better read a face? Well is it to be able to read runes, but better yet
it is to know what the Lord has written in men's eyes." He signed to the
servant to go on, and in a moment the chains fell clattering on the
ground.

Alwin looked at him in amazement; then suddenly he realized what a kind
old face it was, for all its shrewdness and puny ugliness. The scowl
fell from him like another chain.

"I give you thanks," he said.

The wrinkled, tremulous old hand touched his shoulder with a kindly
pressure. "Good is it that we understand each other. _Nun_! Come.