"Tell me," said Katla, a handsome and lively widow, to Gunlaugar, an
accomplished and gallant young warrior, "tell me why thou goest so oft
to Mahfahlida? Is it to caress an old woman?"

"Thine own age, Katla," answered the youth inconsiderately, "might
prevent thy making that of Geirrida a subject of reproach."

"I little deemed," replied the offended matron, "that we were on an
equality in that particular--but thou, who supposest that Geirrida is
the sole source of knowledge, mayst find that there are others who equal
her in science."

It happened in the course of the following winter that Gunlaugar, in
company with Oddo, the son of Katla, had renewed one of those visits to
Geirrida with which Katla had upbraided him.

"Thou shalt not depart to-night," said the sage matron; "evil spirits
are abroad, and thy bad destiny predominates."

"We are two in company," answered Gunlaugar, "and have therefore nothing
to fear."

"Oddo," replied Geirrida, "will be of no aid to thee; but go, since
thou wilt go, and pay the penalty of thy own rashness."

In their way they visited the rival matron, and Gunlaugar was invited to
remain in her house that night. This he declined, and, passing forward
alone, was next morning found lying before the gate of his father
Thorbiorn, severely wounded and deprived of his judgment. Various causes
were assigned for this disaster; but Oddo, asserting that they had