saddle, and put his arm about her waist, and they passed slowly through
the deep snow. And Swanhild, too, crept from her place, for her burning
rage had kept the life in her, and followed after them. Many times she
fell, and once she was nearly swallowed in a drift of snow and cried out
in her fear.

"Who called aloud?" said Eric, turning; "I thought I heard a voice."

"Nay," answers Gudruda, "it was but a night-hawk screaming."

Now Swanhild lay quiet in the drift, but she said in her heart:

"Ay, a night-hawk that shall tear out those dark eyes of thine, mine
enemy!"

The two go on and at length they come to the banked roadway that runs
past the Temple to Asmund's hall. Here Swanhild leaves them, and,
climbing over the turf-wall into the home meadow, passes round the
hall by the outbuildings and so comes to the west end of the house, and
enters by the men's door unnoticed of any. For all the people, seeing
a horse coming and a woman seated on it, were gathered in front of the
hall. But Swanhild ran to that shut bed where she slept, and, closing
the curtain, threw off her garments, shook the snow from her hair, and
put on a linen kirtle. Then she rested a while, for she was weary, and,
going to the kitchen, warmed herself at the fire.

Meanwhile Eric and Gudruda came to the house and there Asmund greeted
them well, for he was troubled in his heart about his daughter, and very
glad to know her living, seeing that men had but now begun to search for
her, because of the snow and the darkness.