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Updated: May 3, 2025
I have been taught to spare where there was nothing worthy of my steel, and no maid or mother has yet suffered wrong at my hands. Yet must I sail the seas, Osla, and fight where I find a foe; for I feel that the gods bid me, and a man cannot struggle with his fate." While he spoke Osla's gaze was fixed on the turning tide, but her eyes, had he seen them, were lit by the fire of his words.
The old man's face dropped to the curly head lying on his breast, but he only said, "The child must get to rest, and Mam Kirsty. Ring that bell, Yaspard, and then go and tell your aunt. Sit down, Mr. Garson, sit down, till I've had time to think." Fred did as he was bid, and so of course did Yaspard; and a pretty scene he created in Miss Osla's room when he burst in there and told her all!
Yet the actual memories of these things grew fainter, and he talked like an old man telling of his youth. "I am under a spell," he would say to himself, and stride more quickly over the heather, and then catch himself smiling at the thought of some word or look of Osla's. The hermit's black mood passed away, and was followed by an attitude of grave distance towards his guest.
But nothing more serious came of it than the startling of Miss Osla's wits by an apparition of her nephew prancing downstairs with one of Signy's old dolls in his arms, and his face and head wrapped in a piece of black linen, upon which our young hero had sketched a death's-head and cross-bones.
Some few bright moments there were at rare intervals, but in all the months that followed it was but the shattered hull of Thord the Tall, once the terror of the western seas, that lingered on the Holy Isle. The care of him had at least the effect of turning Osla's thoughts away from herself. Than sunshine and another's troubles there are no better tonics.
"A very hungry manliness," she retorted. But despite herself she smiled, and then lightly turned the talk to other things. From day to day the quiet island life went on with few incidents and pleasant monotony. With only one family was there any intercourse, and that almost entirely on Osla's part.
Where on earth did you get that elegant frock from?" "Out of Aunt Osla's bullyament boxes," said she; and Aunt Osla herself explained that the bairn's "best things" had been worsted during her terrible adventure, which had obliged Miss Adiesen to make a new dress.
"Think not so harshly of him!" she cried. "He was he was my father!" "I ask your pardon, Mistress Osla. Go on." "At length he fell sick, and in the last of the winter storms he died." So far Estein had been listening most curiously, wondering much what the upshot of it all would be, and keeping a severe restraint on his tongue. But at Osla's last words he had nearly betrayed himself.
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