Ho, for Greenland! Greenland in three days!"

"Greenland?" echoed the chorus.

"Greenland?" cried Helga, appearing in her doorway, with blanching
cheeks.

They rushed upon the messenger, and hauled him from his horse and surged
about him. And what had seemed Babel before was but gentle murmuring
compared with what now followed.

"Greenland! What for?"--"You are jesting." "That pagan hole!"--"In three
days? It is impossible!"--"Is the chief witch-ridden?"--" Has word come
that Eric is dead?"--" Has Leif quarrelled with King Olaf, that the King
has banished him?"--" Greenland, grave-mound for living men!"--"What
for?"--"In the Troll's name, why?"--" You are lying; it is certain that
you are."--" Speak, you raven!"

"In a moment, in a moment,--give me breath and room, my masters," the
thrall answered boldly. "It is the truth; I myself heard the talk. But
first,--I have ridden far and fast, and my throat is parched with--"

A dozen milk-bowls were snatched from the table and passed to him. He
emptied two with cool deliberation, and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

"I give you thanks. I shall not keep you waiting. It happened last night
when Leif came in to make his report to the King. Olaf was seated on the
throne in his hall, feasting. Many famous chiefs sat along the walls.
You should have heard the cheer they gave when it was known that Leif
had the victory!"