"The burning at Laxafiord?" she whispered.

"Who has not heard of that burning?" he cried. "The flames leapt
higher than the pine trees, the women shrieked--I hear them now!"
He paused, and she pressed his hand the tighter.

"Father!" she said softly, "father!" But he paid no heed to her,
for his mind had begun to wander, and he talked wildly to himself.

"Death-doomed I am. Have mercy upon my soul! ......Ay, the wind
blows, a stormy day for fishing, and the flames are leaping--I see
them leap! St. Ringan save me!......A Christian man, I tell
thee...... spare not, spare not! Smite them to the last man!"

Then he fell silent, and she laid her free hand upon his brow,
while outside the wind eddied and sang mournfully round the cell.
At last his mind cleared again, and he spoke coherently though
very feebly.

"I am dying, Osla; fare thee well! The box--you know the box?"

"The steel-bound box?" she answered.

"Ay, steel-bound, 'tis steel-bound indeed. I took it--"

He had begun to wander again, but with a last effort he collected
his thoughts and went on,--

"Open it. There is a writing. Read, it will tell--promise--I can