Now the day wore on and all the company were gathered at the marriage-feast to the number of nearly two hundred.  Unna sat in the high seat, and men thought her a bonny bride, and by her side sat Asmund the Priest.  He was a hale, strong man to look on, though he had seen some three-score winters; but his mien was sad, and his heart heavy.  He drank cup after cup to cheer him, but all without avail.  For his thought sped back across the years and once more he seemed to see the face of Gudruda the Gentle as she lay dying, and to hear her voice when she foretold evil to him if he had aught to do with Groa the Witch-wife.  And now it seemed to him that the evil was at hand, though whence it should come he knew not.  He looked up.  There Groa moved along the hall, ministering to the guests; but he saw as she moved that her eyes were always fixed, now on him and now on Unna.  He remembered that curse also which Groa had called down upon him when he had told her that he was betrothed to Unna, and his heart grew cold with fear.  “Now I will change my counsel,” Asmund said to himself:  “Groa shall not stay here in this stead, for I will look no longer on that dark face of hers.  She goes hence to-morrow.”

Not far from Asmund sat Bjoern, his son.  As Gudruda the Fair, his sister, brought him mead he caught her by the sleeve, whispering in her ear.  “Methinks our father is sad.  What weighs upon his heart?”

“I know not,” said Gudruda, but as she spoke she looked first on Asmund, then at Groa.

“It is ill that Groa should stop here,” whispered Bjoern again.

“It is ill,” answered Gudruda, and glided away.

Asmund saw their talk and guessed its purport.  Rousing himself he laughed aloud and called to Koll the Half-witted to pour the cups that he might name the toasts.

Koll filled, and, as Asmund called the toasts one by one, Koll handed the cups to him.  Asmund drank deep of each, till at length his sorrow passed from him, and, together with all who sat there, he grew merry.

Last of all came the toast of the bride’s cup.  But before Asmund called it, the women of the household drew near the high seat to welcome Unna, when she should have drunk.  Gudruda stood foremost, and Groa was next to her.

Now Koll filled as before, and it was a great cup of gold that he filled.

Asmund rose to call the toast, and with him all who were in the hall.  Koll brought up the cup, and handed it, not to Asmund, but to Groa; but there were few who noted this, for all were listening to Asmund’s toast and most of the guests were somewhat drunken.

“The cup,” cried Asmund—­“give me the cup that I may drink.”

Then Groa started forward, and as she did so she seemed to stumble, so that for a moment her robe covered up the great bride-cup.  Then she gathered herself together slowly, and, smiling, passed up the cup.

Asmund lifted it to his lips and drank deep.  Then he turned and gave it to Unna his wife, but before she drank he kissed her on the lips.