The group believed that his hesitation arose from timidity. Ignoring the
smart of yesterday's wound, he snatched the sword Rolf held out to him,
and started forward.

His foot struck against the Saxon book which he had let fall. As he
picked it up and laid it reverently aside, it suggested something to
him.

"Thorgrim Svensson," he said, pausing, "because I will not have it said
that I am afraid to look a sword in the face, I will fight your
serf,--on one condition: that this book, which can be of no use to you,
you will give me if I get the better of him."

The freckled face puckered itself into a shrewd squint. "And if you
fail?"

"If I fail," Alwin returned promptly, "Rolf Erlingsson will pay for me.
He has told me that while he is free and I am bound, he is answerable
for what I do."

At this there was some laughter--when it was seen that the Wrestler was
not offended. "A quick wit answered that, Alwin of England," Rolf said
with a smile. "I will pay willingly, if you do not save us both, as I
expect."

Anxious to be done with it, Alwin fell upon the thrall with a fierceness
that terrified the fellow. His blade played about him like lightning;
one could scarce follow its motions. A flesh-wound in the hip; and the
poor churl, who had little real skill and less natural spirit, began to
blunder. A thrust in the arm that would have only redoubled Alwin's