shoulder a ponderous halberd.

The path was very narrow at that point, and he of the black beard
called out gruffly,--

"Make way, old man! Give room to pass."

Roused abruptly from his reverie, the dreamer turned quietly, but
made no movement to the side. The party by this time were so close
that they had perforce to halt, with some clash of armour, and
again their captain cried,--

"Are you deaf? Make way!"

Yet there was something daunting in the other's pale eye, and
though the Viking moved the halberd uneasily on his shoulder, his
own glance shifted. With the slightest intonation of contempt, the
traveller asked,--

"Who bids me make way?"

The black-bearded man looked at him with an air of some
astonishment, and then answered shortly,--

"They call me Ketill; but what is that to you?"

Without heeding the other's gruffness, the old man asked,--

"Does King Hakon sail from Hernersfiord to-day?"