It was a morning in November when he was in the hall, kneeling before master to lace his high boots.  Leif stood before the fire, wrapping himself up for a ride across the Settlement.  Some unknown cause had made the atmosphere of the breakfast-table so particularly ungenial,—­Thorhild sitting with her back to her spouse, and Eric manifesting a growing desire to hurl goblets at the heads of all who looked at him,—­that the courtier had judged it discreet to absent himself from the next meal.  He now stood arraying himself from a pile of furs, and talking with Tyrker, who sat near him blinking in the fire-glow.  Save a couple of house-thralls scrubbing at the lower end of the room, no one else was present, Eric having started on his morning round of the stables, the smithies, and the cow-houses.

As he pulled on his fur gloves, Leif smiled satirically.  “It is a good thing that I was present last summer when King Olaf converted Kjartan the Icelander.  It was then I learned that those who cannot be dealt with by force may often be led by the nose without their knowing it.  Olaf said to the fellow, ’The God I worship does not wish that any should be brought to Him by force.  As you are averse to the doctrines of Christianity, you may depart in peace.’  Whereupon Kjartan immediately replied:  ‘In this manner I may be induced to be a Christian.’  So, because I have kept my promise to speak no more concerning Christianity, men have become curious about it, and yesterday two chiefs came of their own will and asked me questions concerning it.”

Tyrker poked his head out to say “So?” then snuggled back into his wraps again, to chuckle contentedly.  He was so wound up in furs that he looked like a sharp little needle in a fuzzy haystack.

Leif’s smile gave way to a frown.  “Another man came to me also, on a different errand,—­Ragner Thorkelsson,—­it may be that you saw him?  He wished to make a bargain concerning Helga.”

Alwin gave a great start, so that the leather thong snapped in his hand; but his master went on unheeding.

“You know it is my wish that she shall marry as soon as she can make a good match, since she is not happy while she sits at home with Thorhild, and it is not likely that she will like her father much better.  It has been in my mind through every feast; but until now, none of the men who have asked for her has seemed to me a good match.”

Though his hands kept mechanically at their work, Alwin’s brain seemed to have come to a standstill.  It must be a dream, a foolish dream.  It was not possible that such a thing could have been planned without his even suspecting it.  He listened numbly.

“The first man was too old.  The second was not of good enough kin; and the other two had not enough property.  Ragner Thorkelsson lacks none of these.  He is young; his father’s father was a lawman; and he owns eighteen farms and many ships.”

Though he did not in the least know why, Alwin felt a hot desire to seek out Ragner Thorkelsson and kill him.