The second summer after Gudrid came to Erne Pillar a fine ship came in
from Norway with a full cargo. She came in late in the evening, and
everybody was on the shore to see her. Orme knew whose she was and all
about her. She was Einar's ship, he said, and overdue. In the morning
she would discharge her cargo in his warehouse, "and then," he said to
Gudrid, "there will be matters for you to see to, which will last you a
good while. Fine cloth, Einar always brings, and embroidered lengths
from Russia. We shall have you going as gay as a kingfisher about the
ways."
Nothing was done that night except that Orme was rowed out to the ship
and stayed drinking with the master till late. But in the morning,
when Gudrid went to Mass, she saw men bringing up the cargo from the
quay; and when she came back from Mass, there, at the door of Orme's
warehouse, was Orme himself talking to a stranger who had foreign
clothes on him, a gold chain round his loins, from which hung a goodly
knife in a sheath, and rings in his ears. Gudrid, being well brought
up, looked neither to the right nor left, but dipped her head to her
foster-father as she went by. She had on her sea-blue gown, and a blue
silk handkerchief knotted in her hair. The handkerchief was there in
obedience to the priest, who had told her she must not come to church
bare-headed, even in the summer-time. The morning being fresh, her
cheeks were a-flower with roses.
Orme greeted her with a happy word as she sped by him, but Einar, who
was the stranger present, the master of the ship, looked after her, and
presently said, "Tell me, who is that beautiful person?"
Orme told him who she was and of what stock. Einar's colour was high.
"She is a prize for a good man indeed," he said. "And many and many a
man has tried after her, beyond doubt?"
"Many and many a man," said Orme; "you are right there. But she is not
for the first comer, nor yet for the second. I won't answer for
herself, if herself had anything to say in it--which isn't likely. But
for her father the Franklin, I will say as much as this, that he's a
great man, and knows it, though not so well to do as he was. And he
will be hard to come at in the matter of Gudrid."
Einar said no more about her just then, but turned to his affairs and
was busy all day long. Then, at supper-time, Orme took him home to his
house, where he was to stay so long as his occasions kept him in the
country. Halldis made him very welcome, and then Gudrid came into the
hall, and he had a greeting for her. He was young and fresh-coloured,
and showed fine white teeth when he smiled, which was often. He
produced his bales, presents for Halldis and Orme; and presently, while
they were all pulling over the things, he held up a jointed girdle of
wrought silver with crystals set in every square of it. This he
offered to Gudrid.
"For you, lady, if you will accept of it," he said. Gudrid drew back
and blushed. Then she looked at Halldis.
"Oh, may I?" she asked.
Halldis, who had her hands full of scarlet cloth, looked at the
glittering thing. "It is too good to refuse," she said. "And why
should you refuse it?"
"You will make me proud and contented if you will take it," Einar said.
"It will be a kind action on your part."
"Einar speaks well," said Orme. "Put it about you, Gudrid." Gudrid
put the belt round her waist and fastened it.
"That's a good fit," said Halldis. "It might have been made for you."
Einar was still looking at Gudrid, and smiling all the time.
"Does it please you, lady?" he said.
"It is beautiful," said Gudrid.
"It ought to be," Einar said. Then she thanked him fairly, and turned
and ran away to show herself to the maids in the bower. Einar was very
thoughtful for a time; but brightened up when Gudrid and the girls
brought in the meal, and served it. He told tales of his voyages and
entertained the company.
A very good tale he told of a friend of his called Biorn--Biorn
Heriolfsson--who was a ship-man like himself, and had come home to
Iceland two winters back expecting to find his father at home. But his
father in the meantime had up-stick with everything and gone off to
Greenland after Eric Red. That put Biorn out, because he was a man who
liked old customs. It had always been his way to spend the winters at
home with his father, and now here was his father flitted to Greenland.
So Biorn stood on the deck of his ship, very much put out. "Shall we
break bulk?" somebody asked him. "No," says Biorn, "you will not do
that. Let me think." When he had thought he told the ship's company
that he was minded to go to Greenland after his father, and they agreed
to make the voyage. He fastened down his cargo again, refitted, and
away. But it was one thing to resolve upon Greenland, and another
thing to hit it off. He had not sailed those seas before, and falling
in with bad weather, was driven out of his course; and then--to make
matters worse--there came down upon him with a northerly wind a thick
blanket of white fog in which he could get no hint of his whereabouts
and drifted upon a strong current, fairly smothered up. He knew no
more where he was than Einar himself could tell them; he lost count of
days and nights, but estimated that he was three weeks at sea before
the fog lifted and he saw the stars. In the morning the sun rose fair
out of the sea, and he got a bearing. More than that, he saw before
him--like a low bank of cloud--a strange coast lying on his starboard
bow. He could not tell where he wag got to, or what land that might
be, but was sure it was not Greenland. The land lay low, and was dark
with woods. The shore was sandy, with hummocks of blown sand upon it,
covered with grass; the surf very heavy. He coasted that country for
two days and nights with a good wind off-shore, but would not try for a
landing anywhere, being set upon Greenland and sure that he was not
there. Other lands he saw, and a great island covered with snow, and
ice-mountains rising sheer out of the sea--but still he kept on his
course. After that he had a spell of heavy weather with green seas
over him constantly; and last of all he saw another land, on his port
bow, which he said was Greenland.
A great ness ran out far into the sea, which he made with safety, and
found smooth water, a town, an anchorage, and a man in a boat fishing.
Biorn drew alongside, feeling for his anchorage, and laughed to himself
when the man looked up from his fishing and presently raised his hand
and sawed the air once or twice. "Hail to you, father," said Biorn.
"I thought you would be coming along," said his father. "You have hit
me off to a nicety." Biorn said, "I don't know about the nicety of it.
I have been seven weeks at sea since I left Iceland, and no man alive
knows where I have been--least of all myself." "Be careful of my
lines," said his father. "I am in the way to catch monsters, and have
pots down and out all round me." At that Biorn threw his head up and
laughed till he cried. "A scurvy on your monster pots," he said.
"Here am I come from beating round the watery world to seek you, and
you think only of pots."
Gudrid was thrilled to hear of the new lands; but Orme, who knew
Heriolf, Biorn's father, was tickled to death with the old man's
quirks. "That is Heriolf all over," he said. "And to say that such a
man could get on with Eric Red. Greenland is not wide enough to hold
those two."
But Gudrid held Einar with the most beautiful pair of eyes in Iceland.
"And what country was it that Biorn found first?" she asked.
Einar said, "I can't tell you. He must have drifted south of
Greenland, south and by west. I believe that he crossed the western
ocean, which no man has ever yet done. It is a notable deed--but a
thousand pities that he made no landing."
But Gudrid still gazed at him, and into him. "And will you not go
yourself, and seek out that new country?"
Einar said, "I have often thought of it. It would be a fine adventure.
But just now I have another adventure in my mind, which may delay me.
"And what adventure is that?"
Einar said, "I cannot tell you at the moment. It is not a settled
thing by any means."
Halldis looked at Orme, and Orme nodded his head.
After that Einar saw much of Gudrid, and used to tell her tales of the
sea. He was busy, of course, most of the day, but found time in the
evenings; and in the mornings, too, he had the habit of going to church
at Mass-time and kneeling behind her. She was pleased to find him
there, and the first time showed it plainly. After that she was more
than pleased, but careful not to show it. They used to walk home
together, and sometimes did not go the straight road, but went round by
the frith and looked at Einar's ship lying out at her moorings, swaying
with the tide.
One day, looking at the ship there, Gudrid asked him again what his
adventure was, and whether anything was settled. No, he said, nothing
was settled; but he hoped it might be settled soon. "It does not
depend altogether upon me," he said. "My mind was made up at once."
"But," said Gudrid, "if that adventure were settled and done with,
would you not then think of seeking the new country which Biorn saw?"
"Well, I might do that," Einar replied. "But a man tires of the sea
after a time, and I have had plenty of it. I am very well off, you
must know. I might set up my house-pillars, and find me a wife."
"But you would not do that?"
"Ah," said Einar, "but I am sure that I would." She kept her gaze for
the tide in the frith, feeling it would be indiscreet to say more.
A little later on he told her what the adventure was on which his heart
was set, and when she had heard it she gave him her hand. But she told
him that it did not rest with her--as he knew very well it did not.
They sat together on the brae in the sun, and her hand remained in his
keeping. Presently she said, "If my father says that we may, we will
go out to find the new country together."
"We will go where you will," said Einar. "It will be all one to me."
Again she thought, with her face set towards the sea. Then she turned
suddenly and put her arms round his neck.