could only see for a few feet into the passage, as I looked from
light to darkness.

"Ho, Jarl Sigurd! what would you? Why have you opened your door
thus?"

Very hollow my voice sounded, and that was all.

"Sigurd of Orkney--Sigurd, son of Rognvald--I am the son of Vemund
your friend. Speak to me!"

There was no answer. A bit of earth crumbled from the broken side
of the mound and made me start, but I saw nothing. So I stepped
away from the door and back to my comrade, who had edged nearer the
place, though his face showed that he feared greatly.

"I think that the mound has been rifled," I said. "Sigurd would
have us know it and take revenge."

"No man has dared to go near that doorway till you came, Ranald
Vemundsson," Kolgrim answered. "Now I fear that he plans to lure
you into the mound, and slay you there without light to help you.
Go no further, maybe you will be closed up with the ghost."

That was not pleasant to think of, but I had seen nought to make me
fear to go in. There was no such unearthly light shining within the
mound as I had heard of in many tales of those who sought to speak
with dead chiefs.

"Well, I am going in," I said stoutly; "but do you hide here, and