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Astrid was not away from home, but she was uncertain whether her son would wish to sell any malt, so I was obliged to wait until he came in from the stables." "Humph," sniffed Thorhild; "Egil Olafsson has become of great importance since his father was mound-laid. This is the third time I have been kept waiting for his leave." She turned on the girl sharply.
When Ljung Björn Olafsson, who was now going to Jerusalem, and his brother Pehr were children, they had once sat on that stone and talked. At first they were as chummy as could be; then all at once they got to quarrelling about something, became very much excited, and raised their voices.
The three broke in upon him in an angry chorus. Alwin said sternly: "You speak in a thoughtless way, Egil Olafsson. You forget that he still wears the crucifix upon his breast. How can they believe that he has forgotten his faith or given it up, when they cannot look at him without seeing also the sign of his God?" Egil turned away, silenced.
Meanwhile, he thought: "It was well after all that the pastor happened in to-day; now he can see that I know how to maintain order in my Zion." But no sooner was the hymn finished than a man jumped to his feet. It was proud and dignified Ljung Björn Olafsson, who was married to one of the Ingmar girls, and was the owner of a large farmstead in the heart of the parish.
Pehr Olafsson immediately said: "So you sold the farm, Björn!" "Yes," answered Björn. "I have given all I owned to God." "But the farm was not yours," the brother mildly protested. "Not mine?" "No, it belonged to the family." Ljung Björn did not reply, but sat quietly waiting. He knew that when his brother had seated himself on that stone, it was for the purpose of speaking words of peace.
As Egil advanced with a jeering laugh, Helga caught his sleeve; and Rolf laid an iron hand upon his shoulder. "Think what you do!" the Wrestler admonished. "This will make the third of Leif's thralls that you have slain; and you have no blood-money to pay him." "Shame on you, Egil Olafsson!" cried Helga. "Would you stain your honorable sword with a thing so foul as thrall-blood?"
There is Tyrker under that ash tree. And there, do you remember that black mane? Yonder, bending over that shield? That is Egil Olafsson. Now it comes to my mind again! To-night we go to a feast at the King's house; that is why he is so busy. And yonder! Yonder is Rolf wrestling. He is the strongest man in Greenland; did you know that? Even Valbrand cannot stand against him.
It is better to live, Even to live miserably; .......... The halt can ride on horseback; The one-handed, drive cattle; The deaf, fight and be useful; To be blind is better Than to be burnt; No one gets good from a corpse. Ha'vama'l "Egil! Egil Olafsson!" It was Helga's voice, with a note of happiness thrilling through it like the trill in a canary's song.
After a pause, the voice answered crossly, "I know no English thrall." "How comes it, then, that more than a year ago you told something concerning him which made Egil Olafsson his mortal foe?" Out of the darkness came a sudden cackling laugh. "That is true. I told the Black One that the maiden he loved would love an English thrall instead. And he wished to stick his sword through me!"
The sound of a deep-drawn breath made him turn, to find himself face to face with a young mail-clad Viking, in whose shaggy black locks he recognized the Egil Olafsson whom Helga had that morning 'pointed out.
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