gh thy friend?"

Said Hallblithe, smiling on the Hostage: "What hast thou to say to it,
beloved?"

"Nought at all," she said, "if thou art friend to any of these men. I
may deem that I have somewhat against the chieftain, whereof belike this
big man may tell thee hereafter; but even so much meseemeth I have
against this man himself, who is now become thy friend and scholar; for
he also strove for my beguilement, and that not for himself, but for
another."

"True it is," said the Fox, "that I did it for another; even as yesterday
I took thy mate Hallblithe out of the trap whereinto he had strayed, and
compassed his deliverance by means of the unfaithful battle; and even as
I would have stolen thee for him, O Rose-maiden, if need had been; yea,
even if I must have smitten into ruin the roof-tree of the Ravagers. And
how could I tell that the Erne would give thee up unstolen? Yea, thou
sayeth sooth, O noble and spotless maiden; all my deeds, both good and
ill, have I done for others; and so I deem it shall be while my life
lasteth."

Then Hallblithe laughed and said: "Art thou nettled, fellow-in-arms, at
the word of a woman who knoweth thee not? She shall yet be thy friend, O
Fox. But tell me, beloved, I deemed that thou hadst not seen Fox before;
how then can he have helped the Erne against thee?"

"Yet she sayeth sooth," said Fox, "this was of my sleight: for when I had
to come before her, I changed my skin, as I well know how; there are
others in this land who can do so much as that. But what sayest thou
concerning the brotherhood with the Erne?"

"Let it be so," said Hallblithe, "he is manly and true, though masterful,
and is meet for this land of his. I shall not fall out with him; for
seldom meseemeth shall I see the Isle of Ransom."

"And I never again," said the Puny Fox.

"Dost thou loathe it, then," said the Hostage, "because of the evil thou
hast done therein?"

"Nay," said he, "what is the evil, when henceforth I shall do but good?
Nay, I love the land. Belike thou deemest it but dreary with its black
rocks and black sand, and treeless wind-swept dales; but I know it in
summer and winter, and sun and shade, in storm and calm. And I know
where the fathers dwelt and the sons of their sons' sons have long lain
in the earth. I have sailed its windiest firths, and climbed its
steepest crags; and ye may well wot that it hath a friendly face to me;
and the land-wights of the mountains will be sorr