hich we could not
altogether prevent. But the horses heard us, and one shifted about
and whinnied as if glad to welcome us.
At that we ran and each took the bridle of that next him, and cut
the halter that was tied to the rings in the wall, looking to see
the doors thrown open at any moment. Then we leaped to the saddles
and turned to go. The hoofs made a great noise on the paving stones
before the doorway, yet there was no sound from inside the house.
That seemed strange to me, and I sat still, looking back with the
horse's head turned towards the main road.
"Stay not, master," Kolgrim said. "'Tis some outpost, and the men
have slept over the farmhouse ale. Maybe the stables behind are
full of horses. Have a care, master; the door opens!"
He was going; but I waited for a moment, half expecting to see a
spear point come first, and my hand was on my sword hilt. But the
great heavy door swung slowly, as if the one who opened it had
trouble with its weight. So I must needs see who came. Maybe it was
some old man or woman whose terror I could quiet in a few words.
Then the red firelight from within shone out on me, and in the
doorway, with arms raised to post and door on either hand, stood a
tall maiden, white robed, with gold on neck and arm. The moonlight
on her seemed weird with the glow of the fire shining through the
edges of her hood and sleeves. I could see her face plainly, and it
was fair and troubled, but there was no fear in her looks.
"Father, is this you?" she said quietly.
I could make no answer to that, and she looked intently at me; for
the moon was beyond me, and both Kolgrim and I would seem black
against it, as she came from the light within, while the wind, keen
with salt spray, was blowing in her face.
"Who is it?" she said again. "I can scarcely see for moon and wind
in my eyes."
"Friends, lady," I said, for that at least was true in a way.
"Where are my horses? Have you seen aught of our thralls, who
should have left them?" she asked, looking to whence we had just
taken the beasts.
Now I was ashamed to have taken them, for she was so plainly alone
and helpless, and I could not understand altogether how it could be
so. I was sure that she was Danish, too.
"How is it that you have not fled, lady?" I asked. "Surely you
should have gone."
"Ay; but the thralls fled when they heard the news. Has not my
father sent you back for me?"
This seemed a terrible plight for the maide
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