tells of discussions and exciting deeds at ulfstede.

while the fight at the springs which we have just described was going on, christian the hermit sat in the hall at ulfstede conversing with hilda and dame astrid, and some of the other women. all the fighting men of the place had been taken away—only one or two old men and alric were left behind—for ulf, in his impetuosity, had forgotten to leave a guard at home.

“i hope it will fare well with our men at the springs,” said hilda, looking up with an anxious expression from the mantle with which her nimble fingers were busy.

“i hope so too,” said christian, “though i would rather that there had been no occasion to fight.”

“no occasion to fight!” exclaimed alric, who was dressing the feathers on an arrow which he had made to replace the one he lost in shooting at the dane,—and the losing of which, by the way, he was particularly careful to bring to remembrance as often as opportunity offered—sometimes whether opportunity offered or not. “no occasion to fight! what would be the use of weapons if there were no fighting! where should we get our plunder if there were no fighting, and our slaves? why, what would northmen find to do if there were no fighting?”

the hermit almost laughed at the impetuosity of the boy as he replied—

“it would take a wiser head than mine, lad, to answer all these questions, more particularly to answer them to thy satisfaction. notwithstanding, it remains true that peace is better than war.”

“that may be so,” said dame astrid; “but it seems to me that war is necessary, and what is necessary must be right.”

“i agree with that,” said ada, with a toss of her pretty head—for it would seem that that method of expressing contempt for an adversary’s opinion was known to womankind at least a thousand years ago, if not longer. “but thou dost not fight, christian: what has war done to thee that thou shouldst object to it so?”

“what has war done for me?” exclaimed the old man, springing up with sudden excitement, and clasping his lean hands tight together; “has it not done all that it could do? woman, it has robbed me of all that makes life sweet, and left me only what i did not want. it has robbed me of wife and children, and left a burdened life. yet no—i sin in speaking thus. life was left because there was something worth living for; something still to be done: the truth of god to be proclaimed; the good of man to be compassed. but sometimes i forget this when the past flashes upon me, and i forget that it is my duty as well as my joy to say, ‘the lord gave, and the lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the lord.’”

the old man sat down again, and leaned his brow on his hand. the women, although sympathetic, were puzzled by some of his remarks, and therefore sat in silence for a little, but presently the volatile ada looked up and said—

“what thinkest thou, hilda, in regard to war?”

“i know not what to think,” replied hilda.

“nay, then, thy spirit must be flying from thee, for thou wert not wont to be without an opinion on most things. why, even erling’s sister, ingeborg, has made up her mind about war i doubt not, though she is too modest to express it.”

now this was a sly hit at ingeborg, who was sitting by, for she was well known to have a shrewish temper, and to be self-willed and opinionated, in so much that most men kept out of her way. she was very unlike erling, or her father and mother, or her little sisters, in this respect.

“i can express my opinion well enough when i have a mind,” said ingeborg sharply; “and as to war, it stands to reason that a sea-king’s daughter must approve of a sea-king’s business. why, the beautiful cloths, and gold and jewels, that are so plentiful in the dale, would never have delighted our eyes if our men had not gone on viking cruise, and fallen in with those rich traders from the far south lands. besides, war makes our men brisk and handsome.”

“aye,” exclaimed alric, laughing, “especially when they get their noses cut off and their cheeks gashed!”

“sometimes it takes them from us altogether,” observed a poor woman of the household, the widow of a man who had been slain on a viking cruise, after having had his eyes put out, and being otherwise cruelly treated.

“that is the other side of the question,” said astrid. “of course everything has two sides. we cannot change the plans of the gods. sunshine and rain, heat and cold, come as they are sent. we must accept them as they are sent.”

“that is true,” said christian, “and thou sayest wisely that we must accept things as they are sent; but can it be said that war is sent to us when we rush into it of our own accord? defensive warfare, truly, is right—else would this world be left in the sole possession of the wicked; but aggressive warfare is not right. to go on viking cruise and take by force that which is not our own is sinful. there is a good way to prove the truth of these things. let me ask the question, astrid,—how would thy husband like to have thee and all his property taken from him, and ulfstede burned about his ears?”

“methinks he would like it ill.”

“then why should he do that to others which he would not like done to himself?”

“these are strange words,” said astrid in surprise; “i know not that i have ever heard the like before.”

“truly no,” said christian, “because the word of god has not yet been sounded in the dale. thou saidst just now that we cannot change the plans of the gods; that would be true if ye had said ‘the plans of god,’ for there is but one god, and his ways are unchangeable. but what if god had revealed some of his plans to man, and told him that this revelation was sufficient to guide him in his walk through this life, and to prepare him for the next?”

“then would i think it man’s wisdom to follow that guide carefully,” replied astrid.

“such plans do exist, such a revelation has been made,” said the hermit, “and the name that stands on the forefront of it is jesus christ.”

as he spoke the hermit drew from his bosom a scroll of parchment, which he unrolled slowly. this, he said, was a copy, made by himself, of part of the gospel. he had meant, he said, to have copied the whole of it, but war had put an end to his labours at the same time that it deprived him of his earthly joys, and drove him from his native land to be a wanderer on the earth.

“but if,” he continued, “the lord permits me to preach his gospel of truth and love and peace in norway, i shall count the sufferings of this present time as nothing compared with the glory yet to be revealed.”

“christian,” said astrid, who appeared to have been struck by some reminiscence, “methinks i have heard ulf talk of a religion which the men of the south profess. he saw something of it when he went on viking cruise to the great fiord that runs far into the land, (the mediterranean) and if my memory is faithful he said that they called themselves by a name that sounds marvellously like thine own.”

“i suppose ulf must have met with christians, after whom i call myself, seeing that my own name is of consequence to no one,” said the hermit. “what said he about them?”

“that they were a bad set,” replied astrid,—“men who professed love to their fellows, but were guilty of great cruelty to all who did not believe their faith.”

“all who call themselves christians deserve not the name, astrid; some are hypocrites and deceivers, others are foolish and easily deceived.”

“they all make the same profession, i am told,” said dame astrid.

“the men of norway are warriors,” returned the hermit, “and all profess courage,—nay, when they stand in the ranks and go forth to war, they all show the same stern face and front, so that one could not know but that all were brave; yet are they not all courageous, as thou knowest full well. some, it may be very few, but some are cowards at heart, and it only requires the test of the fight to prove them. so is it with professing christians. i would gladly tell the story of jesus if ye will hear me, dame astrid.”

the matron’s curiosity was excited, so she expressed her willingness to listen; and the hermit, reading passages from his manuscript copy of the new testament, and commenting thereon, unfolded the “old old story” of god’s wonderful love to man in jesus christ.

while he was yet in the midst of his discourse the door of the hall was burst violently open, and one of the serving-girls, rushing in, exclaimed that the danes were approaching from the fiord!

the danes referred to composed a small party who had been sent off in a cutter by skarpedin redbeard to survey the coast beyond horlingdal fiord, as he had intended, after herrying that district, to plunder still farther north. this party in returning had witnessed, unseen, the departure of the fleet of northmen. thinking it probable that the place might have been left with few protectors, they waited until they deemed it safe to send out scouts, and, on their report being favourable, they landed to make an attack on the nearest village or farm.

on hearing the news all was uproar in ulfstede. the women rushed about in a distracted state, imploring the few helpless old men about the place to arm and defend them. to do these veteran warriors justice they did their best. they put the armour that was brought to them on their palsied limbs, but shook their heads sadly, for they felt that although they might die in defence of the household, they could not save it.

meanwhile christian and alric proved themselves equal to the occasion. the former, although advanced in years, retained much of his strength and energy; and the latter, still inflated with the remembrance of the fact that he had actually drawn blood from a full-grown bearded dane, and deeply impressed with the idea that he was the only able-bodied warrior in ulfstede at this crisis, resolved to seize the opportunity and prove to the whole world that his boasting was at all events not “empty!”

“the first thing to be done is to bar the doors,” he cried, starting up on hearing the serving-girl’s report. “thou knowest how to do it, christian; run to the south door, i will bar the north.”

the hermit smiled at the lad’s energy, but he was too well aware of the importance of speed to waste time in talking. he dropped his outer garment and ran to the south door, which was very solid. closing it, and fastening the ponderous wooden bar which stretched diagonally across it, he turned and ran to the chamber in which the weapons were kept. on the way he was arrested by a cry from alric—

“here! here, quick, christian, else we are lost!”

the hermit sprang to the north door with the agility of a youth. he was just in time. poor alric, despite the strength of his bold heart and will, had not strength of muscle enough to close the door, which had somehow got jammed. through the open doorway christian could see a band of danish vikings running towards the house at full speed. he flung the door forward with a crash, and drew the bar across just as the vikings ran against it.

“open, open without delay!” cried a voice outside, “else will we tear out the heart of every man and child under this roof.”

“we will not open; we will defend ourselves to the last; our trust is in god,” replied christian.

“and as to tearing out our hearts,” cried alric, feeling emboldened now that the stout door stood between him and his foes, “if ye do not make off as fast as ye came, we will punch out your eyes and roast your livers.”

the reply to this was a shower of blows on the door, so heavy that the whole building shook beneath them, and alric almost wished that his boastful threat had been left unsaid. he recollected at that moment, however, that there was a hole under the eaves of the roof just above the door. it had been constructed for the purpose of preventing attacks of this kind. the boy seized his bow and arrows and dashed up the ladder that led to the loft above the hall. on it he found one of the old retainers of the stede struggling up with a weighty iron pot, from which issued clouds of steam.

“let me pass, old ivor; what hast thou there?”

“boiling water to warm them,” gasped ivor, “i knew we should want it ere long. finn is gone to the loft above the south door with another pot.”

alric did not wait to hear the end of this answer, but pushing past the old man, hastened to the trap-door under the eaves and opened it. he found, however, that he could not use his bow in the constrained position necessary to enable him to shoot through the hole. in desperation he seized a barrel that chanced to be at hand, and overturned its contents on the heads of the foe. it happened to contain rye-flour, and the result was that two of the assailants were nearly blinded, while two others who stood beside them burst into a loud laugh, and, seizing the battle-axes which the others had been using, continued their efforts to drive in the door. by this time old ivor had joined alric. he set down the pot of boiling water by the side of the hole, and at once emptied its contents on the heads of the vikings, who uttered a terrific yell and leaped backward as the scalding water flowed over their heads and shoulders. a similar cry from the other door of the house told that the defence there had been equally successful. almost at the same moment alric discovered a small slit in the roof through which he could observe the enemy. he quickly sent through it an arrow, which fixed itself in the left shoulder of one of the men. this had the effect of inducing the attacking party to draw off for the purpose of consultation.

the breathing-time thus afforded to the assailed was used in strengthening their defences and holding a hurried council of war. piling several heavy pieces of furniture against the doors, and directing the women to make additions to these, christian drew alric into the hall, where the ancient retainers were already assembled.

“it will cost them a long time and much labour to drive in the doors, defended as they are,” said the hermit.

“they will not waste time nor labour upon them,” said ivor, shaking his hoary head. “what think ye, finn?”

the women, who had crowded round the men, looked anxiously at finn, who was a man of immense bulk, and had been noted for strength in his younger days, but who was now bent almost double with age. “fire will do the work quicker than the battle-axe,” answered finn, with grim smile, which did not improve the expression of a countenance already disfigured by the scars of a hundred fights, and by the absence of an eye—long ago gouged out and left to feed the ravens of a foreign shore! “if this had only come to pass a dozen years ago,” he added, while a gleam of light illumined the sound eye, “i might have gone off to valhalla with a straight hack and some credit. but mayhap a good onset will straighten it yet, who knows?—and i do feel as if i had strength left to send at least one foe out of the world before me.”

ivor the old nodded. “yes,” he said; “i think they will burn us out.”

“i had already feared this,” said christian, with a look of perplexity. “what wouldst thou recommend should be done, ivor?”

“nothing more can be done than to kill as many as possible before we die.”

“i pray the lord to help us in our extremity,” said christian; “but i believe it to be his will to help those who are willing to help themselves, depending upon him for strength, courage, and victory. it may be that ulf and his men will soon return from the springs, so that if we could only hold out for a short time all might be well. have ye nothing to suggest?”

“as to ulf and the men returning from the springs,” said finn, “there is small chance of that before morning. with regard to holding out, i know of nothing that will cause fire to burn slow once it is well kindled. an hour hence and ulfstede will be in ashes, as that sound surely tells.”

he referred to a crashing blow which occurred just then at the north door. nearly all present knew full well that it was the first bundle of a pile of faggots with which the assailants meant to set the house on fire.

“had this arm retained but a little of the strength it once knew,” continued finn bitterly, as he stretched out the huge but withered limb, “things had not come to this pass so quickly. i remember the day, now forty years ago, when on the roof of this very house i stood alone with my bow and kept thirty men at bay for two full hours. but i could not now draw an arrow of alric’s little bow to its head, to save the lives of all present.”

“but i can do it,” cried alric, starting forward suddenly; “and if thou wilt show me the window in the roof i will—”

“brave boy,” said old ivor, with a kindly smile, as he laid his hand on alric’s head, “thy heart is large, and it is sad that one so full of promise should come to such an end; but it needs not that ye should fall before thy time. these shafts may do against the crows, but they would avail nothing against men in mail.”

“is there not a warrior’s bow in the house?” asked christian quickly.

“there is,” replied ivor, “but who will use it?”

“i will.”

“thou?” exclaimed ivor, with a slight touch of contempt in his tone.

“hold thy peace, ivor,” said hilda quickly. “this man has saved my life once, as thou knowest, and well assured am i that what he undertakes to do he will accomplish.”

“now thanks to thee, hilda, for that,” said the hermit heartily; “not that i boast of being sure to accomplish what i undertake, yet i never offer to attempt what i have not some reasonable hope of being able to do. but it is not strange that this old warrior should doubt of the courage or capacity of one who preaches the gospel of peace. nevertheless, when i was a youth i fought in the army of the great thorfin, and was somewhat expert in the use of the bow. it is possible that some of my ancient skill may remain, and i am willing to use it in a good cause. i pray thee, therefore, let us not waste more time in useless talk, but fetch me a bow and quiver, and show me the window in the roof.”

ivor went at once to the place where the armour was kept, and brought out the desired weapons, which he placed in the hands of the hermit, and watched his mode of handling them with some curiosity. christian, unconscious of the look, strung the bow and examined one of the arrows with the air of a man who was thoroughly accustomed to such weapons. ivor regarded him with increased respect as he conducted him to the loft, and opened the window.

the hermit at once stepped out, and was instantly observed by the danes, who of course seized the opportunity and let fly several arrows at him, which grazed him or stuck quivering in the roof close to the spot where he stood. he was not slow to reply. one of the vikings, who was approaching the house at the moment with a bundle of faggots on his back, received a shaft in his shoulder, which caused him to drop his bundle and fly to the woods, where he took shelter behind a tree. almost before that shaft had reached its mark another was on the string, and, in another instant, transfixed the biceps muscle of the right arm of one of the vikings who was preparing to discharge an arrow. he also sought shelter behind a tree, and called to a comrade to come and assist him to extract the shaft.

“mine ancient skill,” said the hermit in an undertone, as if the remark were made half to himself and half to ivor, whose head appeared at the window, and whose old countenance was wrinkled with a grin of delight at this unexpected display of prowess; “mine ancient skill, it would seem, has not deserted me, for which i am thankful, for it is an awful thing, ivor, more awful than thou thinkest, to send a human being into eternity unforgiven. i am glad, therefore, to be able thus to render our assailants unfit for war without taking away their lives—ha! that was better aimed than usual,” he added, as an arrow passed through his jerkin, and stuck deep into the roof. “the man shoots well, he would soon end the fight if i did not—stop—that.”

at the second-last word the hermit bent his bow; at the last, which was uttered with emphasis, he let the arrow fly, and sent it through the left hand of his adversary, who instantly dropped his bow. at the same moment it seemed as though the whole band of vikings had become suddenly convinced that they stood exposed to the shafts of a man who could use them with unerring certainty, for they turned with one consent and fled into the woods—each man seeking shelter behind the nearest tree.

here they called to one another to stand forth and shoot at the hermit.

“go thou, arne,” cried the leader; “thine aim is true. surely one old man is not to keep us all at bay. if my left hand were unscathed i would not trouble thee to do it, thou knowest.”

“i have no desire to get an arrow in mine eye,” cried arne; “see, i did but show the tip of my right elbow just now, and the skin of it is cut up as though the crows had pecked it.”

in the excess of his wrath arne extended his clenched fist and shook it at the hermit, who instantly transfixed it with an arrow, causing the foolish man to howl with pain and passion.

“i have always held and acted on the opinion,” said christian to ivor, who was now joined by his comrade finn, “that whatever is worth doing at all, is worth doing well. thou seest,” he continued, wiping his brow with the sleeve of his coat, “it is only by being expert in the use of this weapon that i have succeeded in driving bark the danes without the loss of life. there is indeed a passage in the book of god (which i hope to be spared to tell thee more about in time to come), where this principle of thoroughness in all things is implied, if not absolutely taught—namely, ‘whatever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.’”

“a just maxim,” said finn, shading his one eye with his hands and gazing earnestly into the woods, “and if acted upon, makes a man fit for every duty that falls upon him; but it seems to me that while we are talking here, there is some movement going on. see, christian (since that is thy name), they are retiring in haste, and exposing themselves. now, i pray thee, as thine eye is so sure, do drop a shaft on the nape of yonder fellow’s neck, that we may have something to show of this night’s work.”

“i told thee, finn, that my desire is to avoid taking life.”

“humph,” said finn testily, “whatever thy desire may be matters little now, for he is beyond range. hark! that shout accounts for the flight of the danes. ulf must have returned.”

as he spoke, a loud cry, as if of men in conflict, arose from the fiord. immediately after, the vikings who had not already taken to flight left their places of shelter and dashed into the underwood. the hermit let them go without moving a hand; but alric, who was actuated by no merciful principles, suddenly opened the north door, sprang out, and let fly an arrow with so true an aim that it struck one of the danes between the shoulders. fortunately for him, the dane had, in accordance with the usual custom of the time, hung his shield on his back when he took to flight, so that the shaft rebounded from it and fell harmless to the ground.

by this time the hermit had descended from the roof. running out he seized alric, and, dragging him into the house, reclosed the door.

“ye know not, foolish boy, whether or not this is ulf whom we hear.”

as he spoke, the tramp of approaching footsteps and the voices of excited men were heard outside. the door flew open, and ulf, erling, and haldor, with a number of the house-carles, strode into the hall and flung down their arms.

“not much too soon, it would seem,” said ulf, with a look of stern joy.

“thou wouldst have been altogether too late, ulf,” said astrid, “had not christian been here to save us.”

“how so?” exclaimed ulf, turning with an enquiring look to the hermit; “hast turned warrior after all thy preaching of peace? but thou art pale. ho! fetch a horn of ale here; fighting has disagreed with thy stomach, old man.”

“i think,” said christian, pressing his hand to his side, “that one of these arrows must have—”

he paused suddenly, and would have fallen to the ground had not erling caught him. letting him gently down at full length, our hero raised his head on his knee, while hilda came forward with a horn of ale. as she kneeled by the old man’s side she glanced anxiously at her lover’s face, which was covered with blood and dust, and presented anything but an attractive appearance.

“hast thou been wounded?” whispered hilda.

“no, not wounded,” muttered erling, “but—”

“not wounded!” exclaimed ulf, who overheard the words, but misunderstood their application, “not wounded! why, erling, where have thy wits gone? the man is wellnigh dead from loss of blood. see, his jerkin is soaking. bring hither bandages; come, let me see the wound. if the old man has indeed saved ulfstede this day, eternal disgrace would be our due did we let his life slip out under our roof-tree for want of proper care. and hark’ee; get ready all the dressings thou hast, for wounded men enough will be here ere long, and let the boards be spread with the best of meat and ale, for we have gone through hard work to-day, and there is harder yet in store for us, i trow.”

thus admonished, the women went to make preparation for the reception of the wounded, and the entertainment of those who had been more fortunate in the recent conflict. meanwhile the hermit was conveyed to ulf’s own bed, and his wound, which proved to be less serious than had been feared, was carefully dressed by hilda, to whom erling, in the most attentive and disinterested manner, acted the part of assistant-surgeon.