feast was over, and Olaf, with his personal attendants had been lighted to their tents, Thora bade her women good-night. Alone she stood at her bower-window, looking out upon the darkness. Her heart was heavy with fear. Would Olaf leave before he discovered Earl Haakon’s hiding-place? If the jarl could only rest securely until the morrow, then after Olaf had gone, Earl Haakon could take her in his ship to Iceland and they could spend their days in security. Long at the window she stood, watching intently the place where Earl Haakon and Kark lay in hiding.
When Olaf had leaped down from the stone at the head of the covered ditch, after making his offer of a generous reward to whosoever would find the false overlord, Earl Haakon fell back from the strained position in which he had sat listening to the king. The candle was burning low. Kark’s eyes had a greedy glare to the gaze of the earl. The thrall muttered: “It were a goodly quest to find thee, my Jarl, and a fortunate business to bring thee to King Olaf.”
The earl’s only answer was the oft repeated petition in a hoarse whisper, “Be faithful to me, Kark, and I will greatly reward thee.” Both men became silent, and Kark’s wolfish gaze upon the earl made the wretched man shudder. “My thrall,” he muttered as if half afraid of the answer to his question, “why art thou so pale, and now again as black as earth? Is it because thou art minded to betray me?”
“No!” growled the sullen thrall. Earl Haakon
