Part 39 (1/2)
”There can be no doubt of that,” replied Heika, ”for he had no cause to suspect that anything was wrong; and if he had seen me as I first stood before him, motionless with surprise, he would doubtless have hailed me.
No, no; something was working very hard in his brain, for he pa.s.sed on without the least sign of having seen me.”
”That is well, brother, yet I do not feel easy, for it is well-known that Leif is a shrewd man, with great command over his feelings. But now, tell me how best I shall aid you in this enterprise.”
”That is best done by using your bow well, for we shall require a large supply of dried meat for the voyage, and we must work diligently as well as secretly during our few hours of leisure, if we would get ready in time to sail before the rough winds of autumn set in. There are some tight casks in Leif's old store which I mean to take possession of, at the last, for water. Our service will more than pay for these and any other trifles we may find it needful to appropriate.”
Hake thought in his heart that the enterprise was a wild and foolish one, but, having promised to engage in it, he resolved not to cast the slightest hindrance in the way, or to say a single word of discouragement. He therefore approved of all that Heika suggested, and said that he would give his aid most vigorously.
”Moreover,” he continued, ”I have had some consolation to-day which will spur me on, for I have got Bertha to admit that she loves me, and to promise that if I can obtain my freedom she will wed me. She even gave me to understand that she would wed me as a thrall, if only Leif and Karlsefin would give their consent. But that shall not be. Bertha shall never be a thrall's bride. I will return and claim her, as I have said.”
Heika made no reply, but continued to gaze at the floor in silence.
”Methinks ye are perplexed by something, brother,” said Hake.
”I am thinking,” replied Heika, ”that it is a pity we cannot use those curious marks made on skins, wherewith, we are told, men can communicate one with another when they are absent from each other.”
”What causes the regret just now?”
”I grudge to quit Leif without a parting word,” returned Heika, looking at his brother with peculiar earnestness; ”it seems so ungrateful, so unkind to one who has ever treated us well.”
”I think with you in that, brother,” said Hake.
”It would be so easy too,” continued Heika, ”to have some method of letting him know what I think, if we could only agree about the signs or signals beforehand.”
Hake laughed softly.
”That would not be easy; for we could scarcely go to him and say, `Leif, when you see these particular marks on a certain stone, you are to understand that we take leave of you for ever with hearty good-will!' I fear that his suspicions might be aroused thereby.”
”Nay, but I only express regret that we have not some such mode of intercourse,” returned Heika, smiling. ”Ye know the sign of the split arrow which tells of war. Why might we not multiply such signs? For instance, _by laying a billet of firewood across a man's bed_, one might signify that he bade him farewell with tender affection and goodwill!”
”Why, brother,” said Hake, laughing, ”ye look at me as earnestly as if you had said something smart; whereas I regard your idea as but a clumsy one. A billet of wood laid across your friend's bed might more fitly suggest that you wanted to knock out his brains, or damage his skin, or burn him alive!”
Heika laughed heartily, and said that he feared he had nothing of the spirit of the skald about him, and that his power of invention was not great.
”But I have more news to give thee, brother, besides that regarding Bertha,” said Hake. ”Do you know there is a countryman of ours on board of one of the s.h.i.+ps that brought out the men of the new religion, and he has but lately seen our father and Emma?”
Heika started and laid his hand on his brother's arm, while he gazed earnestly into his face.
”It is ill jesting on such a subject,” he said somewhat sternly.
”So think I, brother; therefore I recommend you not to jest,” returned Hake gravely.
”Nay, but is it true?”
”Ay, true as that the sky is over our heads. I have had a long talk with him, and when he found I was a countryman he gave me a hug that made my ribs bend. His name is Sawneysson, a very giant of a man, with hair that might have grown on the back of a Greenland bear, only that it is red instead of white. He told me that he knew our father well by sight, and last saw him taking a ramble on Dunedin hill, whither he had walked from our village on the Forth, which shows that the old man's vigour has improved. Emma was with him too, so Sawneysson said, looking beautiful, but somewhat sad.”
”How knew he her name?” asked Heika.
”He knew it not,” replied Hake. ”He did but say that a fair maiden walked with our father, and I knew at once from his description that it was Emma. But you can inquire for yourself at his own mouth, for this countryman of ours is an enthusiastic fellow, and fond of talking about home.”