windows, and her beams played on his wild features. Suddenly he
started up, so that his heavy armour rattled with a fearful sound,
and he cried out in a thundering voice, "Shall I turn monk, as she
has become a nun? No, crafty priest; your webs are too thin to catch
flies of my sort."

"I have nothing to do with webs," said the chaplain. "In all
openness and sincerity have I put heaven and hell before you during
the space of six years; and you gave full consent to the step which
the holy Verena took. But what all that has to do with your son's
sufferings I know not, and I wait for your narration."

"You may wait long enough," said Biorn, with a sneer. "Sooner
shall--"

"Swear not!" said the chaplain in a loud commanding tone, and his
eyes flashed almost fearfully.

"Hurra!" cried Biorn, in wild affright; "hurra! Death and his
companion are loose!" and he dashed madly out of the chamber and down
the steps. The rough and fearful notes of his horn were heard
summoning his retainers; and presently afterwards the clatter of
horses' feet on the frozen court-yard gave token of their departure.
The knights retired, silent and shuddering; while the chaplain
remained alone at the huge stone table, praying.




CHAPTER 2