Instantly every man of the crew was on his feet, and there was clashing of weapons and a tumult of angry voices.  Eric’s men were not behindhand, and many of the guests drew swords to protect themselves.  They were on the verge of a bloody scene, when again Leif’s voice sounded above the uproar.  He had drawn no weapon, nor swerved nor moved from his first position.

“Put up your swords!” he said to his men.

Those who caught the under-note in his voice hastened to obey, even while they protested.

He turned again to his father, and into his manner came that strange new gentleness that is known as courtesy, which set him above the raging Red One as a man is above a beast.

“It seems strange to me that the one who taught me the laws of hospitality should be the one to break them with me.  Nevertheless, now that I have been frank with you, I will not anger you by speaking further of my mission.  And since you do not wish to lodge us, I and my men will go back to my ship and sleep there until my errand is accomplished.  Valbrand, do you go first, that the others may follow you in order.”

The old warrior hesitated as he wheeled.  “It is you who should go first, my chief.  The heathens will murder you.  We—­”

“You will do as I command,” Leif interrupted him distinctly; and after one glance at his face, they obeyed.

Nothing like this had ever been seen before.  A hush of awe fell upon Eric’s men and Eric’s guests.  One by one the crew filed out, with rumbling threats and scowling faces, but wordless and empty-handed.  Alwin took advantage of his close attendance to be the last to go, but finally even he was forced to leave.  Helga marched out beside him, her head held very high, her eyes dealing sharper stabs than her dagger, Leif’s scar-let colors flying in her cheeks.  Thorhild called to her, but she swept on, unheeding.

At the door, Alwin paused to look back.  Ne would not be denied that.  Leif still stood before his high-seat, holding Eric with his keen calm eyes as a man holds a mad dog at bay.  Never had he looked grander.  Alwin silently swore his oath of fealty anew.

That no one should accuse him of cowardice, the guardsman waited until the door had closed upon the last one of his men.  Then, slowly, with the utmost composure, he walked out alone between the ranks of his enemies.

An involuntary murmur applauded him as he passed.  Thorhild, torn as she was between anger and pride, was quick to catch its meaning and to use it.  Whatever Leif’s faith, she was still his mother.  Taking her life in her hand, she bent over and whispered in Eric’s ear.

The darkness of his face became midnight blackness,—­then was suddenly rent apart as with lightning.  He brought his fist down upon the table with a mighty crash.