knave, and guess that you had transformed White Fell into a
Were-Wolf because she smiled more readily on me than on you."

The jest was not without foundation, for the grace of White Fell's
bright looks had been bestowed on him, on Christian never a whit.
Sweyn's coxcombery was always frank, and most forgiveable, and not
without fair colour.

"If you want an ally," continued Sweyn, "confide in old Trella.
Out of her stores of wisdom, if her memory holds good, she can
instruct you in the orthodox manner of tackling a Were-Wolf. If I
remember aright, you should watch the suspected person till
midnight, when the beast's form must be resumed, and retained ever
after if a human eye sees the change; or, better still, sprinkle
hands and feet with holy water, which is certain death. Oh! never
fear, but old Trella will be equal to the occasion."

Sweyn's contempt was no longer good-humoured; some touch of
irritation or resentment rose at this monstrous doubt of White
Fell. But Christian was too deeply distressed to take offence.

"You speak of them as old wives' tales; but if you had seen the
proof I have seen, you would be ready at least to wish them true,
if not also to put them to the test."

"Well," said Sweyn, with a laugh that had a little sneer in it,
"put them to the test! I will not object to that, if you will only
keep your notions to yourself. Now, Christian, give me your word
for silence, and we will freeze here no longer."