Never had he felt the brooding gloom of this wretched heirship so vividly as on the night when he first met Karen Sabiston. Karen lived with her aunt Matilda Sabiston, the richest woman in Lerwick and the chief pillar of the kirk and its societies. On that night the best knitters in Lerwick were gathered at her house, knitting the fine, lace-like shawls which were to be sold at the next foy for some good cause which the minister should approve. They were weary of their own talk, and longing for Liot to come and tell them a story. And some of the young girls whispered to Karen, "When Liot Borson opens the door, then you will see the handsomest man in the islands." "I have seen fine men in Yell and Unst," answered Karen; "I think I shall see no handsomer ones in Lerwick. Is he fair or dark?" "He is a straight-faced, bright-faced man, tall and strong, who can tell a story so that you will be carried off your feet and away wherever he chooses to take you." "I have done always as Karen Sabiston was minded to do; and now I will not be moved this way or that way as some one else minds." "As to that we shall see." And as Thora Glumm spoke Liot came into the room. "The wind is blowing dead on shore, and the sea is like a man gone out of his wits," he said. And Matilda answered, "Well, then, Liot, come to the fire." And as they went toward the fire she stopped before a lovely girl and said, "Look, now, this is my niece Karen; she has just come from Yell, and she can tell a story also; so it will be, which can better the other." Then Liot looked at Karen, and the girl looked up at him; in that instant their souls remembered each other. They put their hands together like old lovers, and if Liot had drawn her to his heart and kissed her Karen would not have been much astonished. This sweet reciprocity was, however, so personal that onlookers did not see it, and so swift that Liot appeared to answer promptly enough: "It would be a good thing for us all if we should hear a new story. As for me, the game is up. I can think of nothing to-night but my poor kinsman Gisli, and he was not a lucky man, nor is it lucky to speak of him." "Is it Gisli you are talking about?" asked Wolf Skegg. "Let us bring the man among us; I like him best of all." "He had much sorrow," said Andrew Grimm. "He had a good wife," answered Gust Havard; "and not many men are so lucky." "'Twas his fate," stammered a very old man, crouching over the fire, "and in everything fate rules." "Well, then, Snorro, fate is justice," said Matilda; "and as well begin, Liot, for it will be the tale of Gisli and no other--I see that."