The Thrall of Leif the Lucky by Ottilie A. (Ottilia Adelina) Liljencrantz
page 62 of 317 (19%)
page 62 of 317 (19%)
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zeal, finished him completely. With a roar of pain, he threw his weapon
from him, broke through the circle of angry men, and fled, cowering, among the booths. There were few words spoken as the cloak and the book were handed over. The set of Thorgrim's mouth suggested that if he said anything, it would be something which he realized might be better left unsaid. His men were like hounds in leash. Rolf spoke a few smooth phrases, and hurried his companion away. The sense that he had been tricked to the level of a performing bear came upon Alwin afresh. When they stood once more in the road, he looked at the Wrestler accusingly and searchingly. Rolf began to talk of the book. "Nothing have I seen which I think so fine. I must admit that you men of England are more skilful than we of the North in such matters. It is all well enough to scratch pictures on a rock or carve them on a door; but what will you do when you wish to move? Either you must leave them behind, or get a yoke of oxen. To have them painted on kid-skin, I like much better. You are in great luck to come into possession of such property." Alwin forgot his resentful suspicions in his pleasure. "Let us sit down somewhere and examine it," said he. "Yonder, where those trees stretch over the fence and make the grass shady,--that will be a good place." "Have it your own way," Rolf assented. To the shady spot they proceeded accordingly. Rolf stretched himself comfortably in the long grass and made a pillow |
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