While the fight at the Springs which we have just described was going
on, Christian the hermit sat in the hall at Ulfstede conversing with
Hilda and Dame Astrid, and some of the other women. All the fighting
men of the place had been taken away--only one or two old men and Alric
were left behind--for Ulf, in his impetuosity, had forgotten to leave a
guard at home.
"I hope it will fare well with our men at the Springs," said Hilda,
looking up with an anxious expression from the mantle with which her
nimble fingers were busy.
"I hope so too," said Christian, "though I would rather that there had
been no occasion to fight."
"No occasion to fight!" exclaimed Alric, who was dressing the feathers
on an arrow which he had made to replace the one he lost in shooting at
the Dane,--and the losing of which, by the way, he was particularly
careful to bring to remembrance as often as opportunity offered--
sometimes whether opportunity offered or not. "No occasion to fight!
What would be the use of weapons if there were no fighting! Where
should we get our plunder if there were no fighting, and our slaves?
why, what would Northmen find to _do_ if there were no fighting?"