“How can I tell, Lady, seeing that he was laid there a thousand years ago, or mayhap more?  Yet a story, true or false, remains of him that I have heard.  It is that he was a king of these parts, who followed a dream to the south.  The dream was of a necklace, and of one who wore it.  For many years he wandered, and at length returned again to this place, which had been his home, wearing the necklace.  But when he saw its shore from the sea he fell down and his spirit left him.  What happened to him in his wanderings none know, for the tale is lost.  Only it is said that his people buried him in yonder mound still wearing his armour and the necklace he had won.  There, as Olaf has seen, or thinks that he has seen but now, he stands at moonrise ere trouble comes to any of his race, and stares towards the south—­always towards the south.”

“Is the necklace yet in the mound?” asked Iduna eagerly.

“Without doubt, Lady.  Who would dare to touch the holy thing and bring on him the curse of the Wanderer and his gods, and with it his own death?  No man that ever sailed the seas, I think.”

“Not so, Freydisa, for I am sure I know one who would dare it for my sake.  Olaf, if you love me, bring me that necklace as a marriage gift.  I tell you that, having once seen it, I want it more than anything in all the world.”

“Did you hear what Freydisa said?” I asked.  “That he who wrought this sacrilege would bring upon himself evil and death?”

“Yes, I heard; but it is folly, for who need fear dead bones?  As for the shape you saw, why, it is strengthless for good or ill, a shadow drawn from what has been by the magic moon, or perchance by Freydisa’s witchery.  Olaf, Olaf, get me that necklace or I will never kiss you more.”

“That means you will not marry me, Iduna?”

“That means I will only marry the man who gives me that necklace.  If you fear the deed, perhaps there are some others by whom it might be tried.”

Now when I heard these words a sudden rage seized me.  Was I to be taunted thus by the fair woman whom I loved?

“Fear is an ill word to use to me,” I said sternly.  “Know, Iduna, that if it is put to me thus I fear nothing in life or death.  You shall have the necklace if it can be found in yonder earth, chance what may to the searcher.  Nay, no more words.  Steinar will lead you home; I must talk of this matter with Freydisa.”

It was midnight, I know not on what day, since all these things come back to me in vivid scenes, as flashes of lightning show a landscape, but are separated from each other by dense darkness.  Freydisa and I stood by the Wanderer’s grave, and at our feet lay digging tools, two lamps, and tinder to light them.  We were setting about our grim task at dead of night, for fear lest the priests should stay us.  Also, I did not wish the people to know that I had done this thing.

“Here is work for a month,” I said doubtfully, looking up at the great mass of the mound.