Leif gave a short harsh laugh.

“See what it is to have young eyes,” he said.  “Not only can I see that it is a rock, but I can make out that there are men moving around upon it.”

“Men!” cried Sigurd.

Excitement spread like fire from stern to bow, until even Helga of the Broken Heart arose from her cushions on the fore-deck and stood listlessly watching the approach.

Eyvind the Icelander muttered that any creatures in human shape that dwelt on those rocks, must be either another race of dwarfs, or such fiends as inhabit the ice wastes with which Greenland is cursed; but an old Greenland sailor silenced him contemptuously.

“Landlubber!  Has it never been given you to hear of shipwrecks?  When Eric the Red came to Greenland with thirty-five ships following his lead, no less than four of them went to pieces on that rock.  It is the influence of Leif’s luck which has caused a shipwreck so that the chief can get still more honor in rescuing the distressed ones.”

The Icelander grunted.  “Then is Leif’s luck very much like the sword that becomes one man’s bane in becoming another man’s pride,” he retorted.

While he threw all his strength against the great oar, the chief signalled to Valbrand with his head.

“Drop anchor and get the boat ready to lower,” he commanded.  “I want to keep close to the wind so that we may get to them.  We must give them help if they need it.  If they are not peaceful, they are in our power, but we are not in theirs.”

As the boat bounded away on its errand of mercy, every man and boy remaining crowded forward to watch its course.  In some way it happened that Alwin of England was pushed even so far forward as the very bow of the boat, and the side of the shield-maiden.

The sun rose in her glooming face when she turned and saw him beside her.

“I have hoped all day that you would come,” she whispered; “so I could tell you an expedient I have bethought myself of.  Dear one, from the way you have sat all the day with your chin on your hand and your eyes on the sea, I have known that you needed comfort even more than I; and my heart has ached over you till once the tears came into my eyes.”

Her lover gazed at her hungrily.  “Gladly would I give every gift that Leif has lavished on me, if I might take you in my arms and kiss away the smart of those drops.”

A fierce gleam narrowed Helga’s starry eyes.  “Before we part,” she said between her teeth, “you shall kiss my eyes once for every tear they have shed; and you shall kiss my mouth three times for farewell,—­though every man in Greenland should wish to prevent it.”

Suddenly she hid her face against his shoulder with a little cry of despair.

“But you must never come near me after I am married!” she breathed.  “The moment after my eyes had fallen upon your face, I should turn upon my husband and kill him.”