before. It seems to me that I read great luck in his face... And I see
you standing beside him, though you do not look as you look now, for
your hair is long and black. The light is so bright that I cannot...
Yes, one thing more is open to my sight. I see that it is in this new
land that it will be settled whether your luck is to be good or bad."

She stopped. They waited for her to go on; but soon it became evident
that the foretelling was finished. With all his prudence, Sigurd began
to laugh; and Alwin burst out in a passion of impatience: "For which,
you gabbler? For which? I can make nothing of such jargon. Tell me in
plain words whether it will be for good or ill."

Skroppa answered just one word: "Jargon!"

Alwin stormed on unheeding, but Sigurd's laughter stopped: something in
the tone of that one word chilled his blood and braced his muscles like
a frost. He strained his eyes to pierce the shadow and make out what she
was doing; and it seemed to him that he could no longer see her. She had
disappeared,--where? In a sudden panic he groped behind him for the
door; found it and flung it open. It was well that the moon was shining
at that moment.

"Alwin!" he shouted. The yellow face was close to the thrall's
unconscious shoulder; one evil claw-like hand was almost at his cheek.
What she would have done, she alone knew.

While his cry was still in the air, Sigurd pulled his companion away and
through the door. Up the steep they went like cats. Near the top, Alwin
tripped, and his knife slipped from his belt and fell against a boulder.
It lay there shining, but neither of them noticed it. Into their skees,