At last Egil came slowly back, sullen-eyed and grim-mouthed.  He held a branch in his hands and was bending and breaking it fiercely.  “It is shame enough,” he began after a while, “that any man should have had it in his power to spare me.  I wonder that I do not die of the disgrace!  But it would be a still fouler shame if, after he had spared my life, I let myself keep a wolf’s mind toward him.”  His eyes suddenly blazed out at Alwin, but he controlled himself and went on.  “The reason for my enmity I will not tell; wild steers should not tear it out of me.  But,—­” He stopped and drew a hard breath, and set his teeth afresh; “but I will forego that enmity.  It is more than my life is worth.  It is worth a dozen lives to him,—­” his voice broke with rage,—­“yet because it is honorable, I will do it.  If you, Sigurd Haraldsson, and you, Rolf, will pledge your friendship to this man, I will swear him mine.”  It was well that he had reached the end, for he could not have spoken another syllable.

Bewilderment tied Alwin’s tongue.  Sigurd was the first to speak.

“That seems to me a fair offer; and half the condition is already fulfilled.  I clasped his hand last night.”

Rolf answered with less promptness.  “I say nothing against the Englishman’s courage or his skill; yet—­I will not conceal it—­even in payment for a comrade’s life, I do not like to give my friendship to one of thrall-birth.”

That loosened Alwin’s tongue.  “In my own country,” he said haughtily, “you would be done honor by a look from me.  Editha will tell you that my father was Earl of Northumbria, and my mother a princess of the royal blood of Alfred.”

Helga uttered an exclamation of surprise and interest; but he would not deign to look at her.  For a while longer Rolf hesitated, looking long and strangely at Egil, and long and keenly at Sigurd.  But at last he put forth his huge paw.

“Alwin of England,” he said slowly, “though you little know how much it means, I offer you my hand and my friendship.”

Alwin took it a little coldly.  “I will not give you thanks for a forced gift; yet I pledge you my faith in return.”

Though his face still worked with passion, Egil’s hand was next extended.  “However much I hate you, I swear that I will always act as your friend.”

In his secret heart Alwin murmured, “The Fiend take me if ever I turn my back on your knife!” But aloud he merely repeated his former compact.

When it was finished, Sigurd laid an affectionate hand upon his shoulder.  “We cannot bind our friend-ship closer, but it is my advice that you do not leave Helga out of the bargain.  Truer friend man never had.”

The bar across Alwin’s cheek grew fiery with his redder flush.  He stood before her, rigid and speechless.  Helga too blushed deeply; but there was nothing of a girl’s shyness about her.  Her beautiful eyes looked frankly back into his.