shness which had prompted her first attempt,
Thorkel must have taken away with him, a trophy tied to his saddle-bow.
She made big plans and she talked big words,--but always she put off
their fulfilment until the morrow.

"At this gait, he could be dead and in his grave without my knowing it!"
Randalin cried in despair, and her voice made it quite clear that "he"
no longer meant the King. Since there was no one to see it, she even
allowed her head to fall forward on her arms, and let the ache in her
throat ease itself in a little sob. "Now it is open to me that I was
foolish to let what happened in the garden, that day, cause so much
sadness in my heart," she sighed. "It should have been a great joy to me
that he was still safe and happy... and I should have found some hope
in it, also, for as long as he is in England there would always be the
chance that I might see him again... And perhaps, after a long while,
when he had quite forgotten how I looked as Fridtjof... if I should
be able to learn many graceful woman's ways from Elfgiva... and if he
should come upon me when I had on a very beautiful kirtle... so long as
he likes my hair..."

But even as the smile budded on her lips, she plucked it from them,
trembling. "How dare I think of such things, when already they may have
driven him across the sea! It would be quite enough if I could know that
the same land is to hold us both, if I could have the hope of seeing him
again to make it seem worth while for me to go on living. Oh, I did not
dream how much I leaned on that, until it was taken from me!" In the
utter loneliness of her despair, she crushed her face against her arm,
pressing back the burning tears, and her heart rose in a prayer to the
Englishman's God, since her own no longer answered her: "Oh, Thou God,
if Thou art kind and helpful as he says, it is easy for Thee to let him
remain here where I can sometimes see him! Leave me this one hope, and
I also will believe in Thee." With her face hidden, she stood there
praying it until it rang so strong through her soul that it seemed to
her the Power could not but hear. And after He had heard, it would be so
simple,--if He was as helpful as Sebert said.

There was new resolution in her movements when at last she left the
window and went toward Elfgiva's bower. "I will try once more to entice
her to the Palace, so that I can get tidings," she determined. "Perhaps
it will be easier if at first I suggest no more th