"Put up your swords!" he said to his men.

Those who caught the under-note in his voice hastened to obey, even
while they protested.

He turned again to his father, and into his manner came that strange new
gentleness that is known as courtesy, which set him above the raging Red
One as a man is above a beast.

"It seems strange to me that the one who taught me the laws of
hospitality should be the one to break them with me. Nevertheless, now
that I have been frank with you, I will not anger you by speaking
further of my mission. And since you do not wish to lodge us, I and my
men will go back to my ship and sleep there until my errand is
accomplished. Valbrand, do you go first, that the others may follow you
in order."

The old warrior hesitated as he wheeled. "It is you who should go first,
my chief. The heathens will murder you. We--"

"You will do as I command," Leif interrupted him distinctly; and after
one glance at his face, they obeyed.

Nothing like this had ever been seen before. A hush of awe fell upon
Eric's men and Eric's guests. One by one the crew filed out, with
rumbling threats and scowling faces, but wordless and empty-handed.
Alwin took advantage of his close attendance to be the last to go, but
finally even he was forced to leave. Helga marched out beside him, her
head held very high, her eyes dealing sharper stabs than her dagger,
Leif's scar-let colors flying in her cheeks. Thorhild called to her, but