“Luck obeys his will as the helm his hand.  I shall never worry over him again,” he said contentedly, as with the others he waited in the courtyard for Leif to come out of the feasting-hall.

Sigurd laughed gayly.  “Do you know what I just overheard in the crowd?  Some of Thorkel’s men were praising Leif, and one of Eric’s churls thought it worth while to boast to them how he had known the Lucky One when he was a child.  Certainly the tide is beginning to turn.”

“Leif Ericsson is an ingenious man,” Rolf said, with unusual decision.  “I take shame upon me that ever I doubted his wisdom.”

Egil uttered the kind of sullen grunt with which he always prefaced a disagreeable remark.  “Ugh!  I do not agree with you.  I think his behavior was weak-kneed.  Knowing their hatred against the word Christian, all the more would I have dinged it into their ears; that they might not think they had got the better of me.  Now they believe he has become ashamed of his faith and deserted it.”

The three broke in upon him in an angry chorus.  Alwin said sternly:  “You speak in a thoughtless way, Egil Olafsson.  You forget that he still wears the crucifix upon his breast.  How can they believe that he has forgotten his faith or given it up, when they cannot look at him without seeing also the sign of his God?”

Egil turned away, silenced.

This feast of Thorkel Farserk was the first of a long line of such events.  With the approach of autumn, ships became a common sight in the fiords-Those chieftains who had left Greenland in summer to spear whales in the northern ocean, or make trading voyages to eastern countries, or cruise over the high seas on pirates’ missions, now came sailing home again with increased wealth and news-bags bursting.  For every traveller, wife or kinsman made a feast of welcome—­a bountiful entertainment that sometimes lasted three days, with tables always spread, and horns always filled, and games and horse-races, and gifts for everyone.  At each of these celebrations, Leif appeared in all his splendor; and his tactful tongue held for him the place of honor.  His popularity grew apace.  The only thing that could keep step with it was the exultation of his followers.

CHAPTER XVII

THE WOOING OF HELGA

    At love should no one
    Ever wonder
    In another;
    A beauteous countenance
    Oft captivates the wise,
    Which captivates not the foolish.

A man must not
Blame another
For what is many men’s weakness;
For mighty love
Changes the sons of men
From wise into fools. 

          Ha’vama’l

It happened, one day, that an accidental discovery caused Alwin to regard these festivities in a new light.