Sweyn turned upon him, “Liar, coward!” and his hands gripped his brother’s throat with deadly force, as though the spoken word could be killed so; and as Christian struggled, lifted him clear off his feet and flung him crashing backward.  So furious was he, that, as his brother lay motionless, he stirred him roughly with his foot, till their mother came between, crying shame; and yet then he stood by, his teeth set, his brows knit, his hands clenched, ready to enforce silence again violently, as Christian rose staggering and bewildered.

But utter silence and submission were more than he expected, and turned his anger into contempt for one so easily cowed and held in subjection by mere force.  “He is mad!” he said, turning on his heel as he spoke, so that he lost his mother’s look of pained reproach at this sudden free utterance of what was a lurking dread within her.

Christian was too spent for the effort of speech.  His hard-drawn breath laboured in great sobs; his limbs were powerless and unstrung in utter relax after hard service.  Failure in his endeavour induced a stupor of misery and despair.  In addition was the wretched humiliation of open violence and strife with his brother, and the distress of hearing misjudging contempt expressed without reserve; for he was aware that Sweyn had turned to allay the scared excitement half by imperious mastery, half by explanation and argument, that showed painful disregard of brotherly consideration.  All this unkindness of his twin he charged upon the fell Thing who had wrought this their first dissension, and, ah! most terrible thought, interposed between them so effectually, that Sweyn was wilfully blind and deaf on her account, resentful of interference, arbitrary beyond reason.

Dread and perplexity unfathomable darkened upon him; unshared, the burden was overwhelming:  a foreboding of unspeakable calamity, based upon his ghastly discovery, bore down upon him, crushing out hope of power to withstand impending fate.

Sweyn the while was observant of his brother, despite the continual check of finding, turn and glance when he would, Christian’s eyes always upon him, with a strange look of helpless distress, discomposing enough to the angry aggressor.  “Like a beaten dog!” he said to himself, rallying contempt to withstand compunction.  Observation set him wondering on Christian’s exhausted condition.  The heavy labouring breath and the slack inert fall of the limbs told surely of unusual and prolonged exertion.  And then why had close upon two hours’ absence been followed by open hostility against White Fell?