she hath no father and hath chosen thee out of her own heart. It is her girl’s fancy for thy great viking deeds. It were not a sweet thought to me, King Olaf, to see her love and her duty going where she hath been born and bred to hate.”
Olaf drew back, his generous impulse frozen by Ingrid’s manner and speech. Turning to leave, the old woman said, with suppressed bitterness, “I go to prepare my Gudrun for her marriage. She hath neither father, nor brother, nor sister. None but my poor self between her and a nation of enemies. Thou art the king, and moreover I deem thee an honest Norseman, and I wot thou wilt protect her and make her happy.”
Olaf detained Ingrid, as he said with sudden gentleness, “Trust me to win her to my love.”
Ingrid smiled. “King Olaf, what I have told thee of my maiden’s fancy is such knowledge as a mother may gain from the confidence of her child. My Gudrun is of a proud spirit and she will not lightly confess to thee her love. But thou art strong and masterful, and the poor little maid will grow loving and docile, seeing she is but a woman; and it is ever our need, the best and strongest of us, to love and to reverence.”
“I will win thy maiden, aye, thy proud, strong Gudrun, to the gentlest and most trusting love.”
As Ingrid left the king, Thorgills came up. “My King,” he said anxiously, “I did hear that the wife of
