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220 other maids. I gloried in my own strength and I longed to show him and all Norway that I could conquer the mightiest of their race. I have conquered—but what? Not a viking, not a king—only a noble man, loving me with all the strength that hath made him what he is, so valiant, so tender, so true! O my mother! I were the veriest wretch in Norway to repay with treachery such love as King Olaf hath shown me. I longed to throw myself at his feet, to confess to him my base vow, and then hide myself forever from his sight. He, Olaf the king, hath wooed me with all reverence, and asked me to share his crown.”

“And thou—and thou—?” Ingrid’s anxiety was so great she could scarcely speak.

“I denied him!” Gudrun whispered, terrified at the fire in her mother’s eyes. The grasp on her arm was cruel in its pressure, and Ingrid’s look seemed as if she could slay her. Gudrun’s trembling voice went on: “I begged him only for leave to quit his kingdom; and then—and then—he commanded me as my king to stay and be his wife.”

The clutch on the girl’s arm was released, and a sneer took the place of the murderous frown on Ingrid’s face. “Commanded thee? It were well! Thou hadst so lost thy spirit and thy wit at a king’s wooing, it were well for him to forget thou wert earl-born, and to bid thee to be his wife as thou wert a hind’s daughter, or a thrall maid.”