shelter I could not tell. And now a few flakes of snow fluttered
round me, and I held on hopelessly, thinking that surely I should
come to some place that would give me a lee of rock that I could
creep under.

Then the snow swooped down on me heavily, with a whirl and rush of
wind from the sea, and I tried to hurry yet more from the chill.
Then I was sure that I heard voices calling after me, and I ran,
not rightly knowing where to go, but judging that the coastline
would lead me to some fishers' village in the end. There seemed no
hope from the land I had seen.

Again the voices came--nay, but there was one voice only, and it
called me by my name: "Oswald, Oswald!"

I stopped and listened, for I thought of Thorgils. But the voice
was silent, and again I pressed on in the blinding snow, and at
once it came, wailing:

"Oswald, Oswald!"

It was behind me now and close at hand, and I turned with my hand
on my sword hilt. But there was nothing. Only the snow whirled
round me, and the wind sung in the rocks. I called softly, but
there was no answer, and I was called no more as I stood still.

"Oswald, Oswald!"

I had turned to go on my way when it came this time, and now I
could have sworn that I knew the voice, though whose it was I could