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Shake the sleep-thorn out of your ear, my comrade, and be your brave strong-minded self again. Without courage, never would Robert Sans-Peur have come to Greenland, nor Helga, Gilli's daughter, have followed him to Norway. Despise it not, but mate it with your good sense, and the two shall yet draw us to victory." It was a long time before Alwin answered.
Perhaps because he preferred asking questions to answering them, Robert Sans-Peur began an earnest conversation, concerning the harvest, the traps, and the fishing. But as the hour grew, the gaps between his inquiries stretched wider. As the tree-heads ceased even their nodding and hung motionless, the chief's answers became briefer and slower.
"How much warmer then is the state of my feelings toward one who is also a friend of Sigurd Haraldsson? Be welcome, Robert Sans-Peur. The best that Brattahlid has to offer shall not be thought too good for you." Whether or not he could speak it, it was evident that the Fearless One understood the Northern tongue. His haughtiness passed from him like a shadow.
He sent a half-resentful glance to where Robert Sans-Peur stood, calm and lofty, watching the departure. Whatever else threatened Alwin of England, he had none of this nonsense to endure. Over his shoulder, as he marched away, the Silver-Tongued made a sly face at his friend. The Norman caught the grimace, but no answering smile curved the bitter line of his lips.
Smiles had been strangers to his gaunt dark face for many weeks now. The sailors said of him, "Since the Southerner lost his chance at the bear, he has had the appearance of a man who has lost his hope of Heaven." When the noise of the departing explorers sank into the distance, Robert Sans-Peur strolled away from the busy groups and stretched himself in the shade of a certain old elm-tree.
But there was no difficulty about hearing, for Sigurd spoke out in a loud clear voice: "Foster-father, I wish to make known to you my friend and comrade who has just now arrived on the Eastman's vessel. He is called Robert Sans-Peur, because his courage is such as is seldom found. I got great kindness from his kin when I was in Normandy."
The ground ought to be measurably sacred by this time, one would think. One portion of this noble old edifice is suggestive of the quaint fashions of ancient times. It was built by Jean Sans-Peur, Duke of Burgundy, to set his conscience at rest he had assassinated the Duke of Orleans. Alas!
On the shoulders of the two leaders sat Tyrker, his little eyes dancing with excitement, his thin voice squeaking comically in his attempts to pipe a German drinking-song, as he beat time with some little dark object which he was flourishing. The chief walked behind him with a face that was not only clear but almost radiant. Still further back came Robert Sans-Peur, quite un-harmed and vigorous.
The king thereupon let him go, and promised him some vin d'Arbois to set him right again. The present appearance of the town, as seen from the high level followed by the railway, scarcely recalls the time when Arbois was known as le jardin de noblesse, and Barbarossa dated thence his charters, or Jean Sans-peur held there the States of Burgundy.
There is nothing more utterly false than to imagine that war purges human nature of all its frailties and vices, and that under the shadow of death a great body of men gathered like this from many classes and cities, become suddenly white knights, sans-peur et sans reproche, inspired by the highest ideals of faith and chivalry.
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