, "I shall believe
that the fences have been snowed under."

He had been sent out to find another of Biorn's sailors who chanced to
be visiting in the neighborhood, to invite him to come to Brattahlid and
tell what else he might know concerning his chiefs voyage,--a subject in
which Leif had become strangely interested. Alwin had accomplished his
errand, and was returning half-frozen and with a ravenous appetite that
made him doubly impatient over their slow progress.

"If we do not get there before long," he repeated to the pony, with a
dig into his flanks, "I shall get afraid that the drifts have covered
the houses also, and that we are already riding over the roofs without
knowing it."

But as he said it, a tall gate-post rose on either side of him; and the
pony turned to the left and began groping his way across the courtyard
to his stable.

The windows of the great hall glowed with light, and warmth and jovial
voices and fragrant smells burst out upon the storm with every swing of
the broad door. As soon as he had stabled his horse, Alwin hurried
toward it eagerly, and, stamping and shaking off the snow, pushed his
way in through the crowd of house-thralls, who were running to and from
the pantry with bowls and trenchers and loads of food. He hoped that
Leif was there, so that he should not have to go back across the snowy
courtyard to the sleeping-loft to make his report. Stopping just inside
the threshold, he looked about for him, blinking in the strong light and
shaking back the wet fur of his collar.

It seemed as though every member of the house-hold except Leif were
lounging along the benches, waiting for the evening meal. Eric leaned
against one arm of his high-seat, talking jovially with Thorhall the
steward, who had returned that morning from seal-hunting. Thorhild bent
over the other arm, and gesticulated vigorously with her keys, as she
gave her housekeeper some last directions regarding the food. Further
along, Sigurd and Helga sat at draughts. Near at hand, a big fur ball,
which was the outward and visible sign of Tyrker, was rolled up close to
a chess-board. Only Leif's cushioned seat was empty.

With petulant force, Alwin jammed his bearskin cap down upon his head
and turned to retrace his steps. Turning, his eye fell upon an object
that Eric had just taken from the steward and held up to the light to
examine. The flames caught at it eagerly, flashing and sparkling, so
that even at that distan