“Nay then the devil’s in it!” said Sir Munan. “Then must your daughter be far unlike all the women I have known; for I have never seen _one_ that was not fain to rule herself—and her man to boot!” Lavrans shrugged his shoulders and made no answer. Then said Baard Petersön: “I can well believe, Lavrans Björgulfsön, that you have found this marriage between your daughter and my foster-son no more to your liking, since the woman who had lived with him came to the end we know of last year. But you must know it has come out now that the unhappy woman had let herself be led astray by another man, Erlend’s steward at Husaby. Erlend knew of this when he went with her down the Dale; he had proffered to portion her fittingly, if the man would wed her.” “Are you well assured that this is so?” asked Lavrans. “And yet I know not,” he said again, “if the thing is anyway bettered thereby. Hard must it be for a woman come of good kindred to go into a house hand and hand with the master, and be led out by the serving-man.” Munan Baardsön took the word: “’Tis plain to me, Lavrans Björgulfsön, that what goes against my cousin most with you, is that he has had these hapless dealings with Sigurd Saksulvsön’s wife. And true it is that ’twas not well done of him. But in God’s name, man, you must remember this—here was this young boy dwelling in one house with a young and fair woman, and she had an old, cold, strengthless husband—and the night is a half-year long up there: methinks a man could scarce look for aught else to happen, unless Erlend had been a very saint. There is no denying it: Erlend had made at all times but a sorry monk; but methinks your young, fair daughter would give you little thanks, should you give her a monkish husband.—True it is that Erlend bore himself like a fool then, and a yet greater fool since—But the thing should not stand against him for ever—we his kinsmen have striven to help the boy to his feet again; the woman is dead; and Erlend has done all in his power to care for her body and her soul; the Bishop of Oslo himself hath absolved him of his sin, and now is he come home again made clean by the Holy Blood at Schwerin—would you be stricter than the Bishop of Oslo, and the Archbishop at Schwerin—or whoever it may be that hath charge of that precious blood—? “Dear Lavrans, true it is that chastity is a fair thing indeed; but ’tis verily hard for a grown man to attain to it without a special gift of grace from God. By St. Olav—Aye, and you should remember too that the Holy King himself was not granted that gift till his life here below was drawing to an end—very like ’twas God’s will that he should first beget that doughty youth King Magnus, who smote down the heathen when they raged against the Nordlands. I wot well King Olav had that son by another than his Queen—yet doth he sit amidst the highest saints in the host of heaven. Aye, I can see in your face that you deem this unseemly talk—” Sir Baard broke in: