“You can scarce think I could be so dull as not to see somewhat when we were together at Yule? I could say naught then, for my father and mother were with us. But this it is that has brought me hither alone this time. I know not whether it be wise of me to touch upon it—but methought we must talk of these things before we are given to one another. “But so it is now, that when I came hither yesterday—I met my kinsman Master Öistein. And he spoke of you. He said you two had passed across the churchyard of St. Clement’s one evening, and with you was a woman they call Brynhild Fluga. I swore a great oath that he must have seen amiss! And if you say it is untrue, I shall believe your word.” “The priest saw aright,” answered Kristin defiantly. “You foreswore yourself, Simon.” He sat a little ere he asked: “Know you who this Brynhild Fluga is, Kristin?” As she shook her head, he said: “Munan Baardsön set her up in a house here in the town, when he wedded—she carries on unlawful dealings in wine—and other things—” “You know her?” asked Kristin mockingly. “I was never meant to be a monk or a priest,” said Simon reddening. “But I can say at least that I have wronged no maid and no man’s wedded wife. See you not yourself that ’tis no honourable man’s deed to bring you out to go about at night in such company—” “Erlend did not draw me on,” said Kristin, red with anger, “nor has he promised me aught. I set my heart on him without his doing aught to tempt me—from the first time I saw him, he was dearer to me than all other men.” Simon sat playing with his dagger, throwing it from one hand to the other. “These are strange words to hear from a man’s betrothed maiden,” said he. “Things promise well for us two now, Kristin.” Kristin drew a deep breath: “You would be ill served should you take me for your wife now, Simon.” “Aye, God Almighty knows that so it seems indeed,” said Simon Andressön. “Then I dare hope,” said Kristin meekly and timidly, “that you will uphold me, so that Sir Andres and my father may let this bargain about us be undone?” “Do you so?” said Simon. He was silent for a little. “God knows whether you rightly understand what you say.” “That do I,” said Kristin. “I know the law is such that none may force a maid to marriage against her will; else can she take her plea before the Thing—” “I trow ’tis before the bishop,” said Simon, with something of a grim smile. “True it is, I have had no cause to search out how the law stands in such things. And I wot well you believe not either that ’twill come to that pass. You know well enough that I will not hold you to your word, if your heart is too much set against it. But can you not understand—’tis two years now since our marriage was agreed, and you have said no word against it till now, when all is ready for the betrothal and the wedding. Have you thought what it will mean, if you come forth now an seek to break the bond, Kristin?” “But you want me not either,” said Kristin.