The Thrall of Leif the Lucky by Ottilie A. (Ottilia Adelina) Liljencrantz
page 169 of 317 (53%)
page 169 of 317 (53%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
"I do not mean in regard to that," he said, when they were once more in motion. "I mean what she told concerning some new untrodden land." Sigurd became instantly attentive, as though the reference had been much in his own mind also. "It has occurred to me that perhaps she was speaking of that western land you told me of. It might he that this would be a way out of my difficulties. If I could escape to that land with Helga, so would I at once save her and gain my freedom." Sigurd's eyes brightened, then gloomed again. "Yes,--but that 'if' is like a mile-wide rift in the ice. You can never get over it." "It might be that I could get around it. I tell you I shall go out of my wits if I cannot see some trail to follow, no matter how faint it is. Tell me what else you know of this land." They were starting down a slope at the speed of the wind, but Sigurd suddenly leaped into the air with a cheer; and cheered again as he landed, right-side up and unstaggered, at the bottom of the hill. "By Michael, I will do better than that! I will take you to talk with one of Biorn's own men. One is visiting Aran Bow-Bender now, across the fiord. I heard Brand Knutsson say so last week." "By my troth, Sigurd," Alwin cried eagerly, "when things come to one's hand like that, I believe it is a sign that he should try his luck with them! Would we have time to go there to-day?" |
|