“It is the wild hunt,” said old Gorm, gripping my arm.  “It is Odin who chases the wraith of Arnkel hence.”

But Phelim looked up to where against the dark cliff the cross stood out bright above the hall.

“If it is Odin,” he said, “he flies before the might of yonder sign.  This place is his no longer.”

The others did not heed him, but I would that what he said was the very truth.  I had ever heard that one who died as did Arnkel was the quarry of Odin’s hunters for evermore, and the sounds scared me.

The clamour of that wild hunt died away, and we breathed more freely.  Soon the wild lights burned up across the north again, and then Bertric spoke.

“Sink yonder thing in the fjord, Asbiorn.  Gerda should not see it thus.”

Therewith we went back to the guest hall, and there was naught to disturb the quiet of the night.  Asbiorn saw to that matter straightway.

Men say now that when the northern fires light the sky, across the fjord drifts the wraith of Arnkel, and that ever the wild hunt comes up from the sea and hounds him hence.  I have heard the bay of those terrible hounds more than once indeed, but I have seen naught, and round our hall is no unrest.

In the sunshine of next day Gerda would hear what had become of Arnkel, supposing that he was kept safely somewhere.  I think that the hurt to me, small as it was, angered her against him more than the wrongs he had done to herself.

“He is dead,” I told her.  “He died at the hand of Asbiorn and the men of the place, in all justice.  He may be forgotten.”

She did not ask more, for the way in which he ended she would not wish to hear.  Only she sighed, and said: 

“Let us forget him then.  I would have forgiven him.  He tried to take even my life from me indeed, but instead he has given me all I could long for.  He sent me to meet you, Malcolm, on the sea.”

Then she laid her hand on my bound arm gently, and smiled at me.

“This is the second time you have saved my life,” she said.  “Nor was there one to share the deed this time.  You cannot bring in Bertric and Dalfin now.”

Which seemed to please her in a way which I will not try to fathom.  That sort of thing makes a man feel how little worth he is in truth.

Then on that morning she must needs take me to see all the place and the folk.  My father’s old ship lay in the fjord, ready to sail to Eric, and she must hear how we escaped from her again.  There were more pleasant doings also, but I need not tell of them.

For now it seems to me that the story is done, if there must be told one or two more things, seeing that Gerda had come home, and all was well.  I have no words to tell of the wedding that was before Bertric must needs go back to Hakon, for none but a lady could compass that.  But I will say that it was a goodly gathering thereat, for word went quickly round, and the good people came in to grace it from far and wide.  Bertric gave away the bride, as the friend of Hakon, who was her guardian; and after the wedding in the old Norse way, Phelim blessed us after the manner of the new faith which he and his had taught us to love, though he might not do more for us, as yet unbaptized.