“Digging in the Wanderer’s grave, brother, as Iduna challenged me to do.” Now all three of them turned on me eagerly, save Freydisa, who stood by the fire listening, and with one voice asked if I had found anything. “Aye,” I replied. “I found the Wanderer, a very noble-looking man,” and I began to describe him. “Peace to this dead Wanderer,” broke in Iduna. “Did you find the necklace?” “Yes, I found the necklace. Here it is!” And I laid the splendid thing upon the board. Then suddenly I lost my speech, since now for the first time I saw that, twisted round the chain of it, were three broken wires of gold. I remembered how in my dream I had seen the beautiful woman break such wires ere she gave half of the jewel to the man in whose breast I had seemed to dwell, and for a moment grew so frightened that I could say no more. “Oh!” exclaimed Iduna, “it is beautiful, beautiful! Oh! Olaf, I thank you,” and she flung her arms about me and kissed me, this time in earnest. Then she seized the necklace and fastened it round her throat. “Stay,” I said, awaking. “I think you had best not touch those gems. Iduna, I have dreamed that they will bring no luck to you or to any woman, save one.” Here the dark-faced Freydisa looked up at me, then dropped her eyes again, and stood listening. “You have dreamed!” exclaimed Iduna. “I care little what you have dreamed. It is for the necklace I care, and not all the ill-luck in the world shall stay me from the keeping of it.” Here again Freydisa looked up, but Steinar looked down. “Did you find aught else?” asked Ragnar, interrupting. “Aye, brother, this!” and from under my cloak I produced the Wanderer’s sword. “A wondrous weapon,” said Ragnar when he had examined it, “though somewhat heavy for its length, and of bronze, after the fashion of those that are buried in the grave mounds. It has seen much wear also, and, I should say, has loosed many a spirit. Look at the gold work of the handle. Truly a wondrous weapon, worth all the necklaces in the world. But tell us your story.” So I told them, and when I came to the images that we had found standing on the coffin, Iduna, who was paying little heed, stopped from her fondling of the necklace and asked where they were. “Freydisa has them,” I answered. “Show them the Wanderer’s gods, Freydisa.” “So Freydisa was with you, was she?” said Iduna. Then she glanced at the gods, laughed a little at their fashion and raiment, and again fell to fingering the necklace, which was more to her than any gods. Afterwards Freydisa asked me what was the dream of which I had spoken, and I told it to her, every word. “It is a strange story,” said Freydisa. “What do you make of it, Olaf?” “Nothing save that it was a dream. And yet those three broken wires that are twisted round the chain, which I had never noted till I saw the necklace in Iduna’s hand! They fit well with my dream.”