it to Valbrand.

"Take this to Kark to pay him for his broken head, and advise him to
make less noise with his mouth in the future." When they were gone he
turned to Alwin and signed him to rise. "You understand a language that
churls do not understand. I will try you further. Go dress yourself,
then bring hither the runes you were reading to Rolf Erlingsson."

Alwin obeyed in silence, a tumult of long-quiet emotions whirling
through his brain,--relief and shame and gratification, and, underneath
it all, a new-born loyalty.

All the rest of the day, until the sun dropped like a red ball behind
the waves, he sat at the chief's feet and read to him from the Saxon
book. He read stumblingly, haltingly; but he was not blamed for his
blunders. His listener caught at the meanings hungrily, and pieced out
their deficiencies with his keen wit and dressed their nakedness in his
vivid imagination. Now his great chest heaved with passion, and his
strong hand gripped his sword-hilt; now he crossed himself and sighed,
and again his eyes flashed like smitten steel. When at last the failing
light compelled Alwin to lay down the book, the chief sat for a long
time staring at him with keen but absent eyes.

After a while he said, half as though he was speaking to himself: "It is
my belief that Heaven itself has sent you to me, that I may be
strengthened and inspired in my work." His face kindled with devout
rapture. "It must have been by the guidance of Heaven that you were
trained in so unusual an accomplishment. It was the hand of God that led
you hither, to be an instrument in a great work."