hing for them and
planning a great patriotic reception.

Still the two weeks went slowly away and it was a full day past this
fixed time, and the ships were not in port nor even in sight, nor had
any late news come from them. In the one letter which Rahal had
received from her son he said: "The enlistment has been very
satisfactory; our return may be even a day earlier than we expected."
So Sunna had begun to watch for the party three days before the set
time, and when it was two days after it she was very unhappy.

"Why do they not come, Thora?" she asked in a voice trembling with
fear. "Do you think they have been wrecked?"

"Oh, no! Nothing of the kind! They may have sailed westward to Harris.
My father thinks so." But she appeared so little interested that Sunna
turned to Mistress Ragnor and asked her opinion.

"Well, then," answered Rahal, "they _are_ staying longer than was
expected, but who can tell what men in a ship will do?"

"They will surely keep their word and promise."

"Perhaps--if it seem a good thing to them. Can thou not see? They are
masters on board ship. Once out of Lerwick Bay, the whole world is
before them. Know this, they might go East or West, and say to no man
'I ask thy leave.' As changeable as the sea is a sailor's promise."

"But Boris is thy son--he promised thee to be home in two weeks. Men
do not break a promise made on their mother's lips. How soon dost thou
expect him?"

"At the harbour mouth he might be, even this very minute. I want to
see my boy. I love him. May the good God send those together who would
fain be loved!"

"Boris is in command of his own ship. He was under no man's orders. He
ought not to break his promise."

"With my will, he would never do that."

"Dost thou think he will go to the war with the other men?"

"That he might do. What woman is there who can read a man's heart?"

"His mother!"

"She might, a little way--no further--just as well 'no further.' Only
God is wise enough, and patient enough, to read a human heart. This is
a great mercy." And Rahal lifted her face from her sewing a moment and
then dropped it again.

Almost in a whisper Sunna said "Good-bye!" and then went her way home.
She walked rapidly; she was in a passion of grief and mortification,
but she sang some lilting song along the highway. As soon, however, as
she passed inside the Vedder garden gates, the singing was changed
into a scornful, angry monologue:

"These Ragnor wom