think he will let his men lie dead by his house and unatoned. You,
Asbjorn, and you, men of Thorolf's, lay now his body upon my sleigh. I
intend to bring Kolbein the Young, his friend. Very likely I shall have
to dress his bloody locks. But that shall I say to you all that Kolbein
the Young is almost quite well again, and may be able to wear mail even
to-morrow. (_All are startled and become alarmed_.)

_Alf_.--Loose sits my head on its shoulders!

_Helga_ (_smiling_).--You will do well to hold it fast with both your
hands, Alf of Grof. (_Aside to_ SALVOR.) Lend me your arm! My eyes grow
dim!

(_Exeunt_ HELGA, SALVOR, _and_ ASBJORN, _the two men of_ THOROLF.
HELGA _walks away like a queen, smiling, and saluting to both sides.
Silence_.)

_Helgi Skaftason_ (_leaning on his axe_).--But a short while will the
hand rejoice over the blow.

_Broddi_.--She smiled rather too often, the queen of the Northlanders!

_Sigurd_.--We shall be dead men, all of us, before seven suns have set,
unless we bethink ourselves of some counsel.

_Brand_.--Give us some counsel, Broddi, or else my kinsman Kolbein will
set our women busy dressing bloody locks also.

_Broddi_.--We have but little choice. Let us collect as many men as
we may. I myself hope to collect two hundred men, for all the men of