“But it was not Baldur at all, but Njord, the old one, whom she had chosen. Then did the Æsir laugh and exult. Skadi was angry, but she was fain to abide by her choice, for she alone had done the choosing.” Egwina laughed, interested in spite of her fears. “Methinks I would rather choose by the countenance than the feet,” she cried merrily. “Men’s looks reflect their deeds, and a clear eye doth oft show a kind heart as well as a brave one.” “True, child. Much wisdom is there in thy speech. Remember well thy words, and when Skulda doth mingle another’s golden thread with thine, look well to face and heart as well as strength of arm, and well-shaped feet.” “Already is the web of her fate woven,” declared the seid woman. “Skulda hath already interwoven with hers the warp and woof of greatness.” “How dost thou know?” cried Egwina. “Thou canst not know such things. I believe it not. Little care I for my fate until I come to it, and I wot that my life depends not on thy tongue roots.” The ghost of a smile flitted over the face of the woman. “Thus didst thou not speak when the vala unraveled for thee thy dream. To-night thou shalt know more of thy future, and we shall know more of thee. Thy design and what of import that is which thou dost carry in thy bosom.” Involuntarily the maiden’s hand went to the bosom of her tunic, for there did she carry the jewel that the king had given her. A light flashed into Gyda’s eyes, and again did the maiden cross herself. “Here are we come at last to the dwelling of Hakon the jarl,” said Sigurd, turning into the courtyard of a large wooden dwelling which had belonged to a Saxon thegn. “Here do we dwell for the night.” “I will pass on,” said Egwina, trying to speak calmly. “I see in yon distance the house of a ceorl. Happier far will I be to abide with mine own people. I thank ye both for sweet and gracious entertainment, and bid ye God-speed.” So saying, she started onward, but the seid woman was by her side instantly. “Too gracious hath been thy company, maiden,” she cried with glittering eyes, “for us now to be deprived of it. Besides, hath not my father entertained thee with tales of our people? Now them must listen to the spell songs of Gyda.” “Prithee insist not upon it,” entreated the girl. “I would go onward.” “Be with us for the night, maiden,” spoke Sigurd. “Naught of harm shall befall thee if thy intent be good. Darkness hath begun to settle over the earth, and it is not meet for maiden to be out alone. Thou art of my craft, and Sigurd will ask of thee only thy songs and glee. Unless it so be that thou hast some mission to perform and must be on thy way, I entreat thee to stay with us.” So much against her wish, Egwina was forced to enter the dwelling of Hakon the jarl. CHAPTER XII—THE MAGIC SLEEP