“I can see you know it all,” said Erlend and let go her hands suddenly. “What think you of me now, Kristin—? “I was eighteen then,” he went on vehemently, “’tis ten years since that the King, my kinsman, sent me with the mission to Vargöyhus—and we stayed the winter at Steigen—she was wife to the Lagmand, Sigurd Saksulvsön—I thought pity of her, for he was old and ugly beyond belief—I know not how it came to pass—aye; but I loved her too. I bade Sigurd crave what amends he would; I would fain have done right by him—he is a good and doughty man in many ways—but he would have it that all must go by law; he took the matter to the King—I was to be branded for whoredom with the wife of him whose guest I had been, you understand— “Then it came to my father’s ears and then to King Haakon’s—he—he drove me from his court. And if you must know the whole—there is naught more now betwixt Eline and me save the children, and she cares not much for them. They are in Österdal, upon a farm I owned there; I have given it to Orm, the boy—but she will not stay with them—Doubtless she reckons that Sigurd cannot live for ever—but I know not what she would be at. “Sigurd took her back again—but she says she fared like a dog and a bondwoman in his house—so she set a tryst with me at Nidaros. ’Twas little better for me at Husaby with my father—I sold all I could lay hands on, and fled with her to Halland—Count Jacob stood my friend—Could I do aught else—she was great with my child. I knew many a man had lived even so with another’s wife and had got off cheap enough—if he were rich that is—But so it is with King Haakon, he is hardest upon his own kin. We were away from one another for a year, but then my father died and then she came back. Then there were other troubles. My tenants denied me rent and would have no speech with my bailiffs because I lay under ban—I on my side dealt harshly with them, and so they brought suit against me for robbery; but I had not the money to pay my house-folk withal; and you can see I was too young to meet these troubles wisely, and my kinsfolk would not help me—save Munan—he did all his wife would let him— “Aye, now you know it, Kristin: I have lost much both of lands and goods and of honour. True it is; you would be better served if you held fast to Simon Andressön.” Kristin put her arms about his neck: “We will abide by what we swore to each other yester-night, Erlend—if so be you think as I do.” Erlend drew her close to him, kissed her and said: “You will see too, trust me, that all things will be changed with me now—for none in the world has power on me now but you. Oh, my thoughts were many last night, as you slept upon my lap, my fairest one. So much power the devil cannot have over a man, that I should ever work you care and woe—you, my dearest life—” 4