that, cast on men by maids? It was the magic of love that
entangled me."

"Men said the hermit was a wizard."

"No wizard, Helgi, or he had never let me come there. He was a
moody and fitful old man. I pleased him with my songs, talked to
him of the strange religion he professes--for he is what men call
a Christian--and grew in time to think of him as a friend.
(Verily, I think there must have been magic!) All this while I
spoke no word of love to Osla, though I think she was not
indifferent to me."

"It was easy to see that."

"Twice on that island a voice I could not name warned me from
beyond the grave, but I heeded it not. (Can the man have been a
wizard?) One night--it was the night you landed, Helgi--I sat
alone with the hermit. Something had moved him to talk. I remember
now! it was a song I sung myself. He told me a tale of a burning.

"Helgi, he had hardly begun ere I knew the end, and could name my
warning voice. The tale was the burning of Laxafiord, and the
voice was my brother Olaf's."

"And the hermit?"

"Is Thord the Tall, the last of the burners."

"Is! Then you slew him not?"