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Updated: June 25, 2025
But the sight made Torarin even more terrified than before. He whipped up his horse till he reared and kicked, but not a step would he go from the stable door. "Come in with me, Torarin!" said the groom. "I thought you had enough remorse already over this business."
When they came down on to the ice, Torarin put on an innocent air. He began to speak of the weather. "In the memory of man there has not been such fine weather as this year," said Torarin. "For wellnigh three weeks we have had calm weather and hard frost. This is not what we are used to in the islands."
I will go in and ask if they have been sharpening knives here tonight." He drove into the farmyard, but when he opened the door of the house he saw that a feast was being held. Upon the benches by the wall sat old men drinking ale, and in the middle of the room the young people played and sang. Torarin saw at once that no man here thought of making his weapon ready for a deed of blood.
And why do we see no rivers and streams, which elsewhere are wont to draw their black furrows through the white fields even in the hardest frost?" Torarin was delighted with these fancies, and Grim too found pleasure in them. He did not move from his place on the load, but lay still and blinked. But just as Torarin had finished speaking he drove past a lofty pole to which a broom was fastened.
But the skipper, who lay there with his great gallias full-laden with herring barrels, and who had been caught by the ice in a bay near Marstrand just as he was ready to put to sea, gave Torarin a sharp look and said: "So then you call this fine weather?" "What should I call it else?" said Torarin, looking as innocent as a child.
"Poor and lowly as I am," thought Torarin, "it is better for the maid that she go with me to the town than that she stay here among the country folk. In Marstrand are many rich burgesses, and perhaps the young maid may take service with one of them and so be well cared for." When first the girl came to the town she sat and wept from morning to night.
Torarin was about to answer that he could not be served with lodging in a roofless house. But before speaking he raised his eyes to the dwelling house, and then he saw that the old timber hall stood unharmed and stately as before the fire. And yet that very morning Torarin had seen the naked rafters thrusting out into the air.
"But we have been on the road for many weeks, you and I, and have a claim to sit at home a day or two and thaw the cold out of our bodies." As the dog continued to lie still, Torarin seemed to grow more sure of his ground, and he went on in a more cheerful tone: "Mother has been left alone in the cottage these many days. I warrant she longs to see us.
In the bright moonlight he saw a tall man of proud bearing walking in the snow. He could see that he wore a plumed hat and rich clothes with ample puffs. "Hallo!" said Torarin to himself; "there goes Sir Archie, the leader of the Scots, who has been out this evening to bespeak a passage to Scotland." Torarin was so near to the man that he drove into the long shadow that followed him.
He was a pale young man with a look of trouble in his face, as though he was unable to support all the learning he had gathered in during his years of study at Wittenberg. These three sat at the head of the table, a little apart from the rest. Below them sat Torarin, and then the servants, who were old like their master.
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