THE HOUSE IN THE FOREST.


Coming from the warmth and light of the hall, the night outside
struck sharp and bitterly cold. A thin cloud hid the moon, but
there was quite light enough to see that the snow-covered court
was deserted. Only in the shadows of the paling and the end of the
house was it possible for a man to be concealed, and before he
stepped away from the door Estein ran his eye carefully along
both. He could see nothing, and had just stepped forward a pace,
when noiselessly as a phantom a dark form appeared round the
corner of the hall, and without pausing an instant came straight
up to him. He saw only that the man was small, and wrapped in a
cloak of fur; his sword flashed, and he was almost in the act of
striking when the figure held up a hand and stopped.

"Who art thou?" said Estein in a low voice, coming forward a step
as he spoke, and holding his sword ready to smite on the instant.

"Estein Hakonson," replied the other in the same tone, "waste not
your blows on friends. Remember the Runes, and follow me. There is
little time for words now."

He turned as he spoke, and looking over his shoulder to see that
Estein followed him, started for the stockade. For an instant
Estein hesitated.

"Are you mad?" exclaimed the man; "or do you wish to die here like
a dog?"