"I am Hilda, daughter of Ulf of Romsdal."
"And thou?" he added, turning to her companion.
"My name is Ada. My father is Hakon of Drontheim."
"Ha!" exclaimed the King, with a bitter smile. "Is it so? Thy father
has met his desert, then, for he now lies at the bottom of the fiord."
Ada turned deadly pale, but made no reply.
"Know ye where Haldor the Fierce is, and his insolent son Erling?" asked
the King.
Hilda flushed at this, and answered with some spirit that she did not
know, and that if she did she would not tell.
"Of course not," said the King; "I might have guessed as much, and do
but waste my time with ye.--Stand aside--bring forward yonder fellow."
The hermit was immediately led forward.
"Who art thou?" asked the King.
"An old wanderer on the face of the earth," replied Christian.
"That is easily seen," answered the King; "but not too old, it would
seem, to do a little mischief when the chance falls in thy way."
"Methinks, sire," whispered Jarl Rongvold, "that this fellow is one of
those strange madmen who have taken up with that new religion, which I
do not profess to understand."
"Sayest thou so?" exclaimed Harald, "then will I test him.--Ho! fetch me
a piece of horse flesh."
A piece of horse flesh was brought without delay, for some that had been
sacrificed in the Drontheim temple had been packed up and carried off
among other provisions when the expedition set forth.
"Here, old man, eat thou a portion of that," said Harald, holding the
flesh towards him.
"I may not eat what has been sacrificed to idols," said the hermit.
"Ho! ho! then thou art not a worshipper of Odin? Say, dog, what art
thou?"
"I am a follower of the Lord Jesus Christ. He is my Saviour. To Him I
live, and for Him I can die."
"Can He save you from _me_?" demanded Harald.
"He can," answered the hermit earnestly, "and will save you too, King
Harald, from your sins, and all who now hear me, if they will but turn
to Him."
"Now will I test him," said the King. "Stand forth, Hake of Hadeland,
and hew me the old man's head from his body."
"Spare him! O spare him!" cried Hilda, throwing herself suddenly
between Hake and his victim, who stood with the resigned air of a man
who had made up his mind to die. "He has twice saved _my_ life, and has
never done you evil in thought or deed."
"Stand aside, my pretty maid. Nay, then, if thou wilt not, I must grant
thy request; but it is upon one condition: that this Saviour shall
either come himself or send a champion to deliver the old man.--Come,"
he added, turning fiercely to the hermit, "pray that thy God shall send
thee a champion now, for if He does not, as I live thou shalt die."
"I may not pray at thy bidding," said the hermit calmly; "besides, it
needs not that I should, because I have already prayed--before dawn this
morning--that He would grant me His blessing in the form that seemed
best to Himself."
"And hast thou got it?"
"I have--in that I possess a quiet spirit, and do not fear to die, now
that His time has come."
"'Tis something this, I admit," returned the King; "yet methinks 'tis
but a poor blessing, after all, with death as the end of it."
"Death is not the end of it," said the hermit, with a kindling eye, "for
after death is everlasting joy and glory with the Lord. Besides, King
Harald, which were better, think you: to die with a willing spirit and
bright hope, or to live full of restless ambition, disappointment, and
rage, even although victorious and King of Norway?"
The King's countenance grew livid with anger as he turned to the berserk
and said, in a voice of suppressed passion--"Go forward, Hake, and slay
him!"
"Now--the time has come," whispered Erling to Glumm.
"Get as near to Ada as thou canst; for the rest, may Christian's God be
with us!"
As he spoke he sprang into the circle, sword in hand, and stood suddenly
between the astonished Hake and the hermit.
There was a loud murmur of amazement at this unexpected apparition, and
not a few of the spectators were awestricken, supposing that this was
actually a champion sent from the spirit world.
"Harald," cried Erling, for the berserk had shrunk back dismayed, "I do
now accept the challenge, and come here to champion the old man."
At the sound of his voice the King's face lighted up with intelligence.
"Ha!" he exclaimed suddenly; "has the old man's God sent Erling the
Bold?"
"Truly I think he has," replied Erling; "at all events it was not for
this purpose that I came hither to-day. But now that I have come, and
of mine own free will put myself in thy power, I claim the right to do
battle for my old friend with thy stoutest man--so set him forth, King
Harald."
"What sayest thou, Hake?" said the King, turning to his berserk with a
smile; "art willing to join issue with the Bold one?--bold enough,
truly, and insolent as well."
Hake, who had recovered his self-possession the instant he recognised
Erling's voice, and who was by no means wanting in courage, suddenly
uttered one of his terrible roars, and rushed upon Erling like a
thunderbolt.
Our hero was too well accustomed to the ways of his class to be caught
off his guard. Although Hake rained blows upon him so fast that it was
almost impossible for the spectators to follow the motions of his
flashing sword, Erling received them all on his shield, or parried them
with his short sword--which, as being more manageable in a _melee_, he
had selected for his present enterprise. The instant, however, that the
berserk's furious onset began to slacken, Erling fetched him such a
tremendous cut on the sword that the weapon was broken close off at the
hilt. Disdaining to slay an unarmed foe, he leaped upon the berserk,
and struck him a blow with the hilt of his sword, which drove the casque
down upon his head and stretched him flat upon the sward.
Without waiting an instant Erling flung down his shield and walked to
the place where Hilda stood, took her by the hand, and whispered,
"Courage! come with me and thou shalt be saved." At the same moment
Glumm stepped to Ada's side, and took her right hand in his left. No
sword was drawn, for Glumm had not drawn his, and no one present had the
faintest idea of what the young men intended to attempt. Indeed, they
were all so amazed at the sudden termination of the fight, that the men
of the inner part of the ring actually stood aside to let them pass,
before the King had time to shout:--
"Seize them!"
In other circumstances, at Harald's word a thousand swords would have
been drawn, and the doom of Erling and his friends at once been sealed;
but the natural ferocity of the tyrant's followers had been spellbound,
and for the time paralysed by the calm bearing of old Christian and the
prowess of his champion, whose opportune appearance had all the effect
of a supernatural interposition, as it might well be deemed: and it will
be readily believed that our hero and Glumm did not fail to use the
advantage thus offered. Leading those whom they had come to rescue, and
closely followed by the hermit, they passed completely through the
circle of men. But at the repetition, in a voice of thunder, of the
royal mandate, some hundreds of the King's men surrounded them, and,
notwithstanding their wondrous strength and skill, they were being
gradually overpowered by numbers, when suddenly a tremendous shout was
heard, and next moment Ulf with his fifty men in battle array rushed out
of the forest.
King Harald endeavoured hastily to draw up his men in something like
order. Hearing the cry in rear, the men in front of Erling and Glumm
fell aside, so that they quickly cut down those who still stood in their
way, and ran towards their friends, who opened their ranks to let them
pass--then reclosed, and fell upon the King's men with incredible fury.
Although outnumbered by at least twenty to one, the disparity did not at
first tell against them, owing to the confusion in the enemy's ranks,
and the confined space of ground on which they fought. They were thus
enabled to act with great vigour, and, being animated by the spirit of
desperate men, they actually for some time kept driving back the King's
forces.
But the continual assault of fresh foes began to tell, and several of
Ulf's men had already fallen, when Erling's voice was heard ringing high
above the din of battle. Instantly every man turned on his heel and
fled towards the river madly pursued by the whole of the King's host.
By this time Erling and Glumm had got the girls into the boat, and
steered them safely down the rapid into the little bay, where they
waited for their companions as patiently as they could.
Meanwhile Ulf's men reached the foot of the Crow Cliff and one by one
sprang into the boiling rapid. Ulf was among the first there, but he
stayed to see them all pass. Before the last could do so their enemies
were upon them, but Ulf kept them at bay for a few moments; and when the
last of his men took the water he retreated fighting, and leaped
backwards into the flood. One or two of the King's men followed, but
they failed to catch him, were carried down stream, and, being ignorant
of the dangers of the place, were swept over the foss and killed. Most
of the host, however, turned suddenly, and set off at full speed to
cross the ridge and pursue their enemies, by the path to which we have
already referred. Before they had crossed it, Erling and his men were
far on their way down the valley; and when the pursuers reached the
coast there was no sign of the fugitives anywhere.
On reaching the cave Erling found that his father had got everything in
readiness to start; so, assembling the people together without delay, he
divided them into two bands, one of which he sent into the Swan, the
other into Glumm's vessel, the Crane.
Haldor also went in the Swan, along with Ulf of Romsdal, Thorer the
Thick, Kettle Flatnose, Alric, and the hermit, besides Dames Herfrida
and Astrid, and the widow Gunhild, Ingeborg, and all Haldor's younger
children. With Glumm there were also several women besides Ada. Ivor
the Old and Finn the One-eyed also went with him; but most of the old
and crippled hangers-on of both families, as well as Glumm's mother,
were taken by Erling into the Swan, as the accommodation there was
better than on board the Crane.
"Now, Glumm," said Erling, when all were on board, "we must say farewell
to Norway. Keep close in my wake. If they give chase we will do our
best to escape, but if that may not be, we will fight and fall
together." The friends shook hands; then, each getting into his ship,
the stern ropes were cast off, the oars were dipped, and they shot out
upon the blue fiord, which the sinking sun had left in a solemn subdued
light, although his beams still glowed brightly on the snow-clad
mountain peaks.
They had proceeded some distance down the fiord before their pursuers
observed them. Then a mighty shout told that they were discovered; and
the grinding of the heavy ships' keels was distinctly heard upon the
shore, as they were pushed off into deep water. Immediately after, the
splash of hundreds of oars warned them to make haste.
"Pull, my lads,--pull with heart," cried Erling; "and let these slaves
see how freemen can make their ocean steeds leap across the sea! Pull!
I see a breeze just off the mouth of the fiord. If we reach that, we
may laugh at the tyrant King."
"What may yonder line on the water be?" said Haldor, with an anxious
look, as he pointed towards the mouth of the fiord.
Erling caught his breath, and the blood rushed to his temples as he
gazed for a moment in silence.
"'Tis a boom," cried Kettle, who had recovered by this time, and who now
leaped towards the fore deck with terrible energy.
"All is lost!" exclaimed Ulf, in a tone of bitterness which words cannot
express.
"Are ye sure it is a boom?" cried Erling quickly. Everyone looked with
intense earnestness at the black line that stretched completely across
the mouth of the fiord, and each gave it as his opinion that it was a
boom. There could not indeed be any doubt on the point. King Harald's
berserk, although somewhat tardy, had fulfilled his orders but too well;
and now a succession of huge logs, or tree trunks, joined together by
thick iron chains, completely barred their progress seaward.
"Surely we can burst through," suggested Kettle, returning to the poop,
his huge frame quivering with contending emotions.
"Impossible," said Haldor; "I have tried it before, and failed. Of
course we must make the attempt, but I have no hope except in this," he
added, touching his sword, "and not much in that either, _now_."
"But I have tried it before, and did not fail, and I'll try it again,"
cried Erling heartily. "Come aft, men, quick, all of ye; every man
except the rowers. Women, children, and cripples, get ye into the
waist. The stoutest men to the oars--jump!"
These orders were obeyed at once. All the best men in the ship seized
the oars, Erling himself, Kettle, and Haldor setting the example, while
Thorer took the helm, and, hailing Glumm, bade him do as they did.
The effect of this was that the stern of the Swan was so weighed down
with the weight of people on the poop, that her bows and a third of her
keel were raised high out of the water, while the men, straining with
every fibre of their muscles at the oars, sent her careering forward
with trebled speed, and the foam rolled in milky billows in her wake.
"When I give the word `Forward,'" cried Erling, "leap like lightning,
all of ye, to the fore deck."
The pursuers, elated by this time with the certainty of success, pulled
also with unwonted energy.
When the Swan came within about twenty yards of the boom, which floated
almost on a level with the water, Thorer gave the word--
"One stroke for freedom!"
"Ho! ho!" shouted Erling and Haldor, straining until their oars cracked
again. The foam hissed from the blades, and the Swan rushed as if she
had been suddenly endued with true vitality.
Next moment she stuck fast--with the boom amidships beneath her!
"Forward!" shouted Erling.
All the unengaged men sprang instantly to the forecastle, and their
weight sank it slowly down, but it seemed inclined for a moment to
remain balanced on the boom. Hereupon the men at the oars jumped up and
also ran forward. The bow dipped at once, the good ship slid over with
a plunge, and glided out upon the sea!
A great shout or yell told that this had been noticed by their foes, who
still rowed madly after them; but heedless of this, Erling backed water
and waited for Glumm, who had made similar preparations, and was now
close on the boom. His vessel went fairly on, and stuck halfway, as the
other had done; but when she was balanced and about to turn over, there
was a terrible rending sound in the hull, then a crash, and the Crane
broke in two, throwing half of her crew into the sea on the inner side
of the boom, and the other half outside.
Well was it for them all then that the Swan had waited! She was at once
backed towards the scene of disaster, and as many as possible were
picked up. Among the rescued was Glumm, with Ada in his arms. But many
were drowned, and a few stuck to the boom, refusing to let go, or to
make any attempt to reach the Swan.
Erling knew, however, that these were sure to be picked up by the King's
ships, so he once more ordered the rowers to give way, and the vessel
sprang forth on her voyage some time before the pursuers reached the
boom. When these did so, most of them attempted to leap it as the
fugitives had done--for none of the Norsemen there lacked spirit. Some,
however, failed to get on to it at all, others got on a short way and
stuck fast, while two or three ships broke their backs, as Glumm's had
done, and threw their crews into the water--but not one got over.
The men then leaped on the boom, and the sound of axes was heard as they
laboured to cut it through, or to dash away its iron fastenings. It
was, however, a thoroughly well-executed piece of work, and for a long
time resisted their utmost efforts. When at length it did give way, and
the King's ships passed through, the Swan was beyond pursuit--far away
on the horizon, with all sail set, and running before a stiff breeze,
while the shades of evening were closing in around her!
That night there was silence in the Norsemen's little ship as she
ploughed her adventurous course over the northern sea, for the thoughts
of all were very sad at being thus rudely driven from their native land
to seek a home where best they might in the wide world. Yet in the
hearts of some of them there was also much happiness.
Hilda's sanguine mind pictured many sweet and peaceful abodes, far from
the haunts of warlike men. Alric was happy, because he was beginning,
as he fondly hoped, a life of wild adventure. So was Kettle Flatnose,
for he was now sailing westward, and he knew that Ireland was somewhere
in that direction. But Glumm the Gruff was perhaps the happiest of all
on board, for, besides the delight of having at last got possession of
his bride, he enjoyed, for the first time in his life, the pleasure of
comforting a woman in distress!
Ada's wild spirit was--we dare not say eradicated, but--thoroughly
subdued at last. When she thought of her father she laid her head on
Glumm's broad chest and wept bitterly.
Thus did those Sea-kings sail away from and forsake the land of Norway.
On their voyage westward they fell in with many ships from other
quarters containing countrymen, Sea-kings and vikings like themselves,
who had also left their native land to seek new homes in Shetland,
Orkney, and the other isles north of Scotland, rather than submit to the
yoke of Harald Haarfager.
They joined company with these, and all sailed westward together.
Among them was a man named Frode, who was celebrated for daring and
wisdom, especially for his knowledge of the stars, and his power of
navigating the unknown ocean of the west. To this man was assigned the
direction of the fleet, and all submitted to his guidance; but the
Sea-kings invariably assembled together in council when it was intended
to decide, what they should do or to what part of the world they should
steer.
"My advice is," said Kettle Flatnose, the first time they assembled thus
in council, "that we steer first to Ireland, where I can promise ye all
a hearty welcome, for it is well known that the Irish are a hospitable
people, and my father is a great man there."
"I fall in with that," said Glumm, glancing at Ada, whose eyes had now
become his guiding stars!
"The advice is good," said Erling, "for, wherever we may finally come to
an anchor, we will be none the worse of getting some provisions on the
way."
As Haldor, Ulf, Frode, and all the rest were of one mind on this point,
the ships were steered to Ireland; and when they reached that country
they put ashore in a small bay not far from Dublin, where was a log hut.
To this Kettle went up with Erling and Glumm, and asked the man of the
house how things were going on in Ireland.
"As ill as can be in this district," said the man; "there is nothing but
vengeance in the hearts of the people."
"That is a bad state," said Kettle, with a look of anxiety; "what may be
the cause of discontent? Is the old King hard on ye?"
"Thou must have been long away to ask that. The old King is dead," said
the man.
At this Kettle uttered a great and bitter cry; but, restraining himself,
asked eagerly if the old Queen were alive. The man replied that she
was. Then Kettle asked how the King met his death.
With a dark frown the man replied that Haabrok the Black had murdered
him and seized the throne. On hearing this Kettle became pale, but was
very calm, and listened attentively while the man went on to say that
Haabrok was such a tyrant that the whole district was ready to start up
as one man and dethrone him, if they had only someone who was fit to
lead them.
"That they shall not long want for," said Kettle.
After some more earnest conversation he turned away, and went down to
the shore.
"Now, Erling and Glumm," said he, "we must do a little fighting before I
can offer ye the hospitality I spoke of. Will ye aid me in a venture I
have in my mind?"
"That will we," they replied heartily.
Kettle thereupon explained his views, and said that he had learned from
the man that his wife was still alive and well, but in the hands of the
king of the district, who was a regicide and a tyrant. It was then
arranged that the Swan should be rowed quietly up towards the town, and
the men landed in the night at a spot where they could be ready to
answer the summons of Kettle, Erling, Glumm, and Ulf, who were to go up
unattended to the King's house in Dublin, with no other arms than their
short swords.
On drawing near, these four found the hall of the King's house
brilliantly lighted, for great festivities were going on there. No one
interfered with them, because none guessed that so small a party would
dare to go up half-armed for any other than peaceful purposes. They
therefore went through the streets unmolested, and easily passed the
guards, because Kettle plied them with a good deal of that which has
since come to be known by the name of "blarney."
When they got into the hall, Kettle went straight up to the high seat or
throne on which Haabrok the Black was seated.
"Ye are presumptuous knaves," said the tyrant, eyeing the strangers
sternly; "is it thus that ye have been taught to approach the King?
What is your errand?"
"For the matter of that, thou well-named villain," said Kettle, "our
errand will but add to our presumption, for we have come to slay thee."
With that Kettle whipped out his sword and cut off Haabrok's head, so
that it went rolling over the floor, while the body fell back and
spouted blood all over the horrified court men!
Instantly every man drew his sword; but Erling, Ulf, and Glumm leaped on
the low platform of the throne, and presented such a bold front, that
the bravest men there hesitated to attack them. At the same moment
Kettle raised his sword and shouted, "If there be yet a true man in this
hall who loves his country and reveres the memory of the good old King
whom this dead dog slew, let him come hither. It is the voice of the
King's son that calls!"
"Sure, 'tis Kettle; I'd know his red head anywhere!" exclaimed a
shrivelled old woman near the throne.
"Aye, nurse, it is Kettle himself--come back again," he said, glancing
towards the old woman with a kindly smile.
A ringing cheer burst from the crowd and filled the hall; again and
again it rose, as nearly all the men present rushed round the throne and
waved their swords frantically over their heads, or strove to shake
hands with the son of their old King. In the midst of the tumult a wild
shriek was heard; and the crowd, opening up, allowed a beautiful
dark-eyed woman to rush towards Kettle, with a stalwart boy of about
five years of age clinging to her skirts.
We need scarcely pause to say who these were, nor who the handsome
matron was who afterwards went and clung round Kettle's neck, and heaped
fervent blessings on the head of her long-lost son. It is sufficient to
say that the feast of that night was not interrupted; that, on the
contrary, it was prolonged into the morning, and extended into every
loyal home in the city; and that Kettle Flatnose entertained his Norse
friends right royally for several days, after which he sent them away
laden with gifts and benedictions. They did not quit Ireland, however,
until they had seen him happily and securely seated on the throne of
Dublin.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sailing northward, the fleet touched at the Orkney and Shetland Islands,
where they found that a number of the expatriated Sea-kings had
comfortably settled themselves. Here some of Haldor's people would fain
have remained, but Frode, who was a man of enterprise, resolved to
penetrate farther into the great unknown sea, to lands which rumour said
did certainly exist there. Accordingly they left Shetland, and went on
until they came to the Faroe Islands. Here they thought of settling,
but on landing they found that a few of the Sea-kings had taken up their
abode there before them.
"Now," said Frode, "it is my great desire to break new ground. Shall we
go and search farther to the west for that new island which has been
lately discovered by Ingoll?"
To this Haldor and Ulf said they were agreed. Hilda plucked Erling by
the sleeve, and whispered in his ear, after which he said that he too
was agreed. Glumm glanced at Ada, who, with a little blush and smile,
nodded. A nod was as good as a word to Glumm, so he also said he was
agreed, and as no one else made objection, the ships' prows were again
turned towards the setting sun.
North-westward they sailed over the world of waters, until they came one
fine morning in sight of land. As they drew near they saw that it was
very beautiful, consisting partly of snow-capped mountains, with green
fertile valleys here and there, and streams flowing through them. They
ran the vessels into a bay and landed, and the country looked so
peaceful, and withal so desirable, that it was at once resolved they
should make this place their abode. Accordingly, while most of the men
set themselves to work to land the goods, put up the tents, and make the
women and children comfortable, a select band, well armed, prepared to
go on an expedition into the country, to ascertain whether or not it was
inhabited. Before these set out, however, Christian the hermit stood up
on a rising ground, and, raising his eyes and hands to heaven, prayed
for God's blessing on their enterprise.
Thereafter plots of land were marked out, houses were built, "Things"
were held, a regular government was established, and the island--for
such it proved to be--was regularly taken possession of.
The exploring party found that this was indeed the island which they
were in search of. It had been discovered about the middle of the ninth
century, and a settlement had been made on it by Ingoll in the year 874;
but the band of immigrants under Frode and Haldor was by far the most
important that had landed on it up to that time.
In this manner, and under these circumstances, was Iceland colonised by
expatriated Norsemen about the beginning of the tenth century!
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Good reader, our tale is told. Gladly would we follow, step by step,
the subsequent career of Erling and Glumm, for the lives of such men,
from first to last, are always fraught with interest and instruction;
but this may not be. We have brought them, with the other chief actors
in this little tale, to a happy point in their adventurous career, and
there we feel that we ought to leave them in peace. Yet we would fain
touch on one or two prominent points in their subsequent history before
bidding them a final farewell.
Let it be recorded, then, that many years after the date of the closing
scene of our tale, there might have been seen in Iceland, at the head of
a small bay, two pretty cottages, from the doors of which there was a
magnificent view of as sweet a valley as ever filled the eye or
gladdened the heart of man, with a distant glimpse of the great ocean
beyond. On the sward before these cottages was assembled a large party
of young men and maidens, the latter of whom were conspicuous for the
sparkle of their blue eyes and the silky gloss of their fair hair, while
the former were notable because of the great size and handsome
proportions of their figures; some, however, of the men and maidens were
dark and ruddy. The youths were engaged in putting the stone and
throwing the hammer; the maidens looked on with interest--as maidens
were wont to do on manly pastimes in days of old, and as they are not
unwilling to do occasionally, even in modern times. Around these romped
a host of children of all ages, sizes, and shades.
These were the descendants of Erling the Bold and Glumm the Gruff. The
two families had, as it were, fused into one grand compound, which was
quite natural, for their natures were diverse yet sympathetic; besides,
Glumm was dark, Erling fair; and it is well known that black and white
always go hand in hand, producing that sweet-toned grey, which Nature
would seem to cherish with a love quite as powerful as the abhorrence
with which she is supposed to regard a vacuum.
Beside each other, leaning against a tree, and admiring the prowess of
the young men, stood Erling and Glumm, old, it is true, and past the
time when men delight to exercise their muscles, but straight and
stalwart, and still noble specimens of manhood. The most interesting
group, however, was to be seen seated on a rustic bench near the door.
There, sometimes conversing gravely with a silver-haired old man at his
side, or stooping with a quiet smile to caress the head of a child that
had rushed from its playmates for a little to be fondled by the "old
one"--sat Haldor the Fierce, with Christian the hermit on one side, and
Ulf of Romsdal on the other. Their heads were pure white, and their
frames somewhat bent, but health still mantled on the sunburnt cheeks,
and sparkled in the eyes of the old Norse Sea-kings.
Within the house might have been seen two exceedingly handsome matrons--
such as one may see in Norway at the present time--who called each other
Hilda and Ada, and who vied with a younger Hilda and Ada in their
attentions upon two frail but cheery old women whom they called "Granny
Heff" and "Granny Ast". How very unlike--and yet how like--were these
to the Herfrida and Astrid of former days!
Between the old dames there sat on a low stool a man of gigantic
proportions, who had scarcely reached middle age, and who was still
overflowing with the fun and fire of youth. He employed himself in
alternately fondling and "chaffing" the two old women, and he was such
an exact counterpart of what Erling the Bold was at the age of thirty,
that his own mother was constantly getting confused, and had to be
reminded that he was _Alric_, and not Erling!
Alric's wife, a daughter of Glumm, was with the young people on the
lawn, and his six riotous children were among the chief tormentors of
old Haldor.
Ingeborg was there too, sharp as ever, but not quite so sour. She was
not a spinster. There were few spinsters in those days! She had
married a man of the neighbouring valley, whom she loved to distraction,
and whom she led the life of a dog! But it was her nature to be
cross-grained. She could not help it, and the poor man appeared to grow
fonder of her the more she worried him!
As for Ivor the Old and Finn the One-eyed, they, with most of their
contemporaries, had long been gathered to their fathers, and their bones
reposed on the grassy slopes of Laxriverdale.
As for the other personages of our tale, we have only space to remark
that King Harald Haarfager succeeded in his wish to obtain the undivided
sovereignty of Norway, but he failed to perpetuate the change; for the
kingdom was, after his death, redivided amongst his sons. The last
heard of Hake the berserk was, that he had been seen in the midst of a
great battle to have both his legs cut off at one sweep, and that he
died fighting on his stumps! Jarl Rongvold was burnt by King Harald's
sons, but his stout son, Rolf Ganger, left his native land, and
conquered Normandy, whence his celebrated descendant, William the
Conqueror, came across the Channel and conquered England.
Yes, there is perhaps more of Norse blood in your veins than you wot of,
reader, whether you be English or Scotch; for those sturdy sea rovers
invaded our lands from north, south, east, and west many a time in days
gone by, and held it in possession for centuries at a time, leaving a
lasting and beneficial impress on our customs and characters. We have
good reason to regard their memory with respect and gratitude, despite
their faults and sins, for much of what is good and true in our laws and
social customs, much manly and vigorous in the British Constitution, of
our intense love of freedom and fairplay, are pith, pluck, enterprise,
and sense of justice that dwelt in the breasts of the rugged old
Sea-kings of Norway!