is well for you, friend."

And so he turned and watched his courtmen, as the Danes called the
housecarles, carry Beorn out. Then he went to the walls and began
to handle axe after axe, taking down one by one, setting some on
the great table, and putting others back, as if taking delight in
choosing one fittest for some purpose.

Even as we watched him--Hubba sitting on the table's edge, and I
standing by him--a leathern curtain that went across a door at the
upper end of the hall was pulled aside, and a lady came into the
place. Stately and tall, with wondrous black hair, was this maiden,
and I knew that this must be that Osritha of whom the jarl was wont
to speak to Eadgyth and my mother, and who wrought the raven banner
that hung above the high place where she stood now. She was like
Halfden and Hubba, though with Ingvar's hair, and if those three
were handsome men among a thousand, this sister of theirs was more
than worthy of them. She stood in the door, doubting, when she saw
me. Sad she looked, and she wore no gold on arm or neck, doubtless
because of the certainty of the great jarl's death; and when she
saw that Hubba beckoned to her, she came towards us, and Ingvar set
down the great axe whose edge he was feeling.

"Go back to your bower, sister," he said; "we have work on hand."

And he spoke sternly, but not harshly, to her. She shrank away a
little, as if frightened at the jarl's dark face and stern words,
but Hubba called her by name.

"Stay, Osritha; here is that friend of our father's from over seas,