last voyage, and the ship sinks out of sight. Two charges do I leave ye, my friends. Of thee, Sir Eogan, would I ask to tell the Christians of thy land to remember my poor half-heathen Norraway, and help her to come closer to the Christ. I did hope to live until all the old gods had passed away; but it hath been denied me. And thou, Thorgills!—O my faithful, true-hearted scald!”—the pilgrim’s voice broke, and for a few moments he could not speak. Thorgills had hidden his face in the drapery of the couch,—“thou wilt keep my memory in thy love, and thou wilt keep the work that lay so near my own heart close to thine—thou and thy gentle Christian wife. Thou wilt often remember how I lifted my sword and gave the challenge to Thor, and swore to be the champion of Christ; and let Norraway ever remember I gave my land to the Cross.”
Then the hermit seemed to sleep, and his two friends moved softly away from his side. Thorgills went to the door of the cave. Day was declining, and the sky over the gray desert waste was vivid red and burning gold. The scald looked down from the height of the hillside cavern upon the arid plain that seemed as a shifting sea of sand. As twilight deepened, one fair star shone out in the crimson heavens. It brought to Thorgills’ memory that last night upon the “Alruna,” when, within sight of the shores of Norway, they had hailed the “North Star” and King Olaf had come into his kingdom.
