burning bush of hair and beard; his hands, gripping the arms of his iron
throne, had twisted them like wire; and the weight of his feet where they
rested had hollowed a socket in the stone floor for them to sink into.

All his hair and his armour shone with a red-and-blue flame; and the light of
him struck the vaulting and the floor like the rays of a torch as it burns.
Over his head a dark tunnel, bored in the solid rock, reached up a hollow
throat seawards. But not by that way came the wind and the sound of the sea;
it was old Jarl himself, breathing peacefully in his sleep, waiting for the
hour which should call his strength to life.

Young Duke Jarl ran swiftly across the chamber, and struck old Jarl's knees,
crying, "Wake, Jarl! or the castle will be taken!" But the sleeper did not
stir. Then he climbed the iron bars of the Duke's chair, and reaching high,
caught hold of the red beard. "Forefather!" he cried, "wake, or the castle
will be betrayed!"

But still old Duke Jarl snored a drowsy hurricane. Then little Jarl sprang
upon his knee, and seizing him by the head, pulled to move its dead weight,
and finding he could not, struck him full on the mouth, crying, "Jarl, Jarl,
old thunderbolt! wake, or you will betray the castle!"

At that old Jarl hitched himself in his seat, and "Humph!" cried he, drawing
in a deep breath.

In rushed the wind whistling from the sea, and down it rushed whistling from
the way by which little Jarl had come; like the wings of cranes flying
homewards in spring, so it whistled when old Jarl drew in his breath.

Off his knee dropped little Ninth Jarl, buffeted speechless to earth. And old