The Werewolf......................................................................................................................................................1

Clemence Housman.................................................................................................................................1

The great farm hall was ablaze with the firelight, and noisy with laughter and talk and manysounding

work. None could be idle but the very young and the very old little Rol, who was hugging a puppy, and

old Trella, whose palsied hand fumbled over her knitting. The early evening had closed in, and the farm

servants had comein from the outdoor work and assembled in the ample hall, which had space for scores of

workers. Several of the men were engaged in carving, and to these were yielded the best place and light;

others made or repaired fishing tackle and harness, and a great seine net occupied three pairs of hands. Of the

women, most were sorting and mixing eider feather and chopping straw of the same. Looms were there,

though not in present use, but three wheels whirred emulously, and the finest and swiftest thread of the three

ran between the fingers of the house mistress. Near her were some children, busy, too, plaiting wicks for

candles and lamps. Each group of workers had a lamp in its centre, and those farthest from the fire had extra

warmth from the two braziers filled with glowing wood embers, replenished now and again from the

generous hearth. But the flicker of the great fire was manifest to remotest corners, and prevailed beyond the

Little Rol grew tired of his puppy, dropped it incontinently, and made an onslaught on Tyr, the old

wolfhound, who basked, dozing, whimpering and twitching in his hunting dreams. Prone went Rol beside

Tyr, his young arms round the shaggy neck, his curls against the black jowl. Tyr gave a perfunctory lick, and

stretched with a sleepy sigh. Rol growled and rolled and shoved invitingly, but could gain nothing from the

old dog but placid toleration and a halfobservant blink. "Take that, then!" said Rol, indignant at this

ignoring of his advances, and sent the puppy sprawling against the dignity that disdained him as playmate.

The baskets of white eider feathers caught his eye far off in a distant corner. He slipped under the table and

crept along on allfours,the ordinary commonplace custom of walking down a room upright not being to his

fancy. When close to the women he lay still for a moment watching, with his elbows on the floor and his chin

in his palms. One of the women seeing him nodded and smiled, and presently he crept out behind her skirts

and passed, hardly noticed, from one to another, till he found opportunity to possess himself of a large

handful of feathers. With these he traversed the length of the room, under the table again, and emerged near

the spinners. At the feet of the youngest he curled himself round, sheltered by her knees from the observation

of the others, and disarmed her of interference by secretly displaying his handful with a confiding smile. A

dubious nod satisfied him, and presently he proceeded with the play he had planned. He took a tuft of the

white down and gently shook it free of his fingers close to the whirl of the wheel. The wind of the swift

motion took it, spun it round and round in widening circles, till it floated above like a slow white moth. Little

Rol's eyes danced, and the row of his small teeth shone in a silent laugh of delight. Another and another of

the white tufts was sent whirling round like a winged thin in a spider's web, and floating clear at last.

Rol sprawled forward to survey the room and contemplate another journey under the table. His shoulder

thrusting forward checked the wheel for an instant; he shifted hastily. The wheel flew with a jerk and the

thread snapped. "Naughty Rol!" said the girl. The swiftest wheel stopped also, and the house mistress, Rol's

aunt, leaned forward and sighting the low curly head gave a warning against mischief and sent him off to old

Rol obeyed and, after a discreet period of obedience, sidled out again down the length of the room farthest

from his aunt's eye. As he slipped in among the men, they looked up to see that their tools might be, as far as

possible, out of reach of Rol's hands, and close to their own. Nevertheless, before long, he managed to secure

a fine chisel and take off its point on the leg of the table. The carver's strong objections to this disconcerted

During this seclusion he contemplated the many pairs of legs that surrounded him and almost shut out the

light of the fire. How very odd some of the legs were; some were curved where others were straight where

they should be curved; and as Rol said to himself, "They all seemed screwed on differently." Some were

tucked away modestly, under the benches, others were thrust far out under the table, encroaching on Rol's

own particular domain. He stretched out his own short legs and regarded them critically and, after

These legs approved by Rol were a little apart from the rest. He crawled opposite and again made

comparison. His face grew quite solemn as he thought of the innumerable days before his legs could be as

long and strong. He hoped they would be just likethose, his models , as straight as to bone, as curved as to

A few moments later Sweyn of the long legs felt a small hand caressing his foot, and looking down met the

upturned eyes of his little cousin Rol. Lying on his back, still softly patting and stroking the young man's

foot, the child was quiet and happy for a good while. He watched the movements of the strong, deft hands

and the shifting of the bright tools. Now and then minute chips of wood puffed off by Sweyn fell down upon

his face. At last he raised himself very gently lest a jog should wake impatience in the carver, and crossing

his own legs round Sweyn's ankle, clasping with his arms too, laid his head against the knee. Such an act is

evidence of a child's most wonderful hero worship. Quite content was Rol, and more than content when

Sweyn paused a minute to joke and pat his head and pull his curls. Quiet he remained, as long as quiescence

is possible to limbs young as his, Sweyn forgot he was near, hardly noticed when his leg was gently released,

Ten minutes thereafter was a lamentable wail from low in the floor, rising to the full pitch of Rol's healthy

lungs, for his hand was gashed across and the copious bleeding terrified him. Then there was soothing and

comforting, washing and binding, and a modicum of scolding, till the loud outcry sank into occasional sobs,

and the child, tearstained and subdued, was returned to the chimneycorner, where Trella nodded.

In the reaction after pain and fright, Rol found that the firelit corner was to him mind Tyr, too, disdained

him no longer, but, roused by his sobs, showed all the concern and sympathy that a dog can by licking and

wistful watching. A little shame weighed also upon his spirits. He wished he had not cried quite so much. He

remembered how Sweyn had come home with his arm torn down from the shoulder, and a dead bear and how

he had never winced or said a word, though his lips turned white with pain. Poor little Rol gave an extra

The light and motion of the fire began to tell strange stories to the child, and the wind in the chimney roared a

corroborative note now and then. The great black mouth of the chimney, impending high over the hearth,

received the murky coils of smoke a brightness of aspiring sparks as into a mysterious gulf, and beyond, in

the high darkness, were muttering and wailing and strange doings, so that sometimes the smoke rushed back

in panic, and curled out and up to the roof, and condensed itself to invisiblity among the rafters. And then the

In a lull, after one such loud gust, Rol lifted his head in surprise and listened. A lull had also come on the

babble of talk, and thus could be heard with strange distinctness a sound without the door the sound of a

"Open, open; let me in!" piped the little voice from low down, lower than the handle, and the latch rattled as

though a tiptoe child reached up to it, and soft small knocks were struck. One near the door sprang up and

opened it. "No one is here," he said. Tyr lifted his head an gave utterance to a howl, loud, prolonged, most

Sweyn, not able to believe that his ears had deceived him, got up and went to the door. It was a dark night;

the clouds were heavy with snow, that had fallen fitfully when the wind lulled. Untrodden snow lay up to the

porch; there was no sight nor sound of an human being. Sweyn strained his eyes far and near, only to see dark

sky, pure snow, and a line of black fir trees on a hill brow, bowing down before the wind. "It must have been

Many faces looked scared. The sound of a child's voice had been so distinct and the words, "Open, open; let

me in!" The wind might creak the wood or rattle the latch, but could not speak with a child's voice; nor knock

with the soft plain blows that a plump fist gives. And the strange unusual howl of the wolfhound was an

omen to be feared, be the rest what it might. Strange things were said by one and other, till a time after there

was uneasiness, constraint, and silence; then the chill of fear thawed by degrees, and the and the babble of

Yet half an hour later a very slight nose outside the door sufficed to arrest every hand, every tongue. Every

head was raised, every eye fixed in one direction. "It is Christian; he is late," said Sweyn.

No, no; this is a feeble shuffle, not a young man's tread. With the sound of uncertain feet came the hard tap

tap of a stick against the door, and the highpitched voice of eld, "Open, open; let me in!" Again Tyr flung up

Before the echo of the tapping stick and the high voice had fairly died way, Sweyn had sprung across to the

door and flung it wide. "No one again," he said in a steady voice, though his eyes looked startled as he stared

out. He saw the lonely expanse of snow, the clouds swagging low, and between the two, the line of dark fir

trees bowing in the wind. He closed the door without word of comment, and recrossed the room.

A score of blanched faces were turned to him as though he were the solver of the enigma. He could not be

unconscious of this mute eyequestioning, and it disturbed his resolute air of composure. He hesitated,

glanced toward his mother, the house mistress, then back at the frightened fold, and gravely, before them all,

made the sign of the cross. There was a flutter of hands as the sign was repeated by all, and the dead silence

was stirred as by a huge sigh, for the held breath of many was freed as if the sign gave magic relief.

Even the house mistress was perturbed. She left her wheel and crossed the room to her son, and spoke with

him for a moment in a low tone that none could overhear. But a moment later her voice was highpitched and

loud, so that all might benefit by her rebuke of the heathen chatter of one of the girls. Perhaps she essayed to

No other voice dared speak now with its natural fulness. Low tones made intermittent murmurs, and now and

then silence drifted over the whole room. The handling of tools was as noiseless as might be, and suspended

on the instant if the door rattled in a gust of wind. After a time Sweyn left his work, joined the group nearest

the door, and loitered there on the pretence of giving advice and help to the unskillful.

A man's tread was heard outside in the porch, "Christian!?said Sweyn and his mother simultaneously, he

confidently, she authoritatively, to set the checked wheels going again. But Tyr flung up his head with an

It was a man's voice, and the door shook and rattled as a man's strength beat against it. Sweyn could feel the

planks quivering, as on the instant his hand was upon the door, flinging it open, to face the blank porch, and

He stood for a long minute with the open door in his hand. The bitter wind swept in with its icy chill, but a

deadlier chill of fear came swifter, and seemed to freeze the beating of hearts. Sweyn snatched up a great

He wrapped himself in the heavy fur, and leaning against the most sheltered wall of the porch, steeled his

nerves to face the devil and all his works. No sound of voices came from within; but he could hear the crackle

It was bitterly cold. His feet grew numb, but he forebore stamping them into warmth lest the sound should

strike panic within; nor would he leave the porch, nor print a footmark on the untrodden snow that testified

conclusively to no human voices and hands having approached the door since snow fell two hours or more

For the best part of an hour he kept his watch, and saw no living thing heard no unwonted sound. "I will

One woman gave a halfsuppressed scream as his hand was laid on the latch, and then a gasp of relief as he

came in. No one questioned him, only his mother said, in a tone of forced concern, "Could you not see

Christian coming?" as though she were made anxious only by the absence of her younger son. Hardly had

Sweyn stamped near to the fire than knocking was heard at the door. Tyr leaped from the hearth his eyes

red as fire his fangs showing white in the black jowl his neck ridged and bristling; and overleaped Rol,

Outside the door a clear, mellow voice was calling. Tyr's barking made the words indistinguishable.

Lithely she balked the sharp fangs with folds of her long fur robe, and snatching from her girdle a small

Sweyn caught the dog by the collar and dragged him off, yelling and struggling. The stranger stood in the

doorway motionless, one foot set forward, one arm flung up, till the house mistress hurried down the room,

and Sweyn, relinquishing to others the furious Tyr, turned again to close the door and offer excuses for so

fierce a greeting. Then she lowered her arm, slung the axe in its place at her waist, loosened the furs about her

face, and shook over her shoulder the long white robe all, as it were, with the sway of one movement.

She was a maiden, tall and very fair. The fashion of her dress was strange half masculine, yet not

unwomanly. A fine fur tunic, reaching but little below the knee, was all the skirt she wore; below were the

crossbound shoes and leggings that a hunter wears. A white fur cap was set low upon the brows, and from

its edge strips of fur fell lappetwise about her shoulders, two of which at her entrance had been drawn

forward and crossed about her throat, but now, loosened and thrust back, left hidden long plaits of fair hair

that lay forward on shoulder and breast, down to the ivorystudded girdle where the axe gleamed.

Sweyn and his mother led the stranger to the hearth without question or sign of curiosity, till she voluntarily

told her tale of a long journey to distant kindred, a promised guide unmet, and signals and landmarks

"Alone!" exclaimed Sweyn, in astonishment. "Have you journeyed thus far a hundred leagues alone?"

"I fear neither man nor beast; some few fear me," and then she told strange tales of fierce attack and defence,

Her words came a little slowly and deliberately, as though she spoke in a scarce familiar tongue; now and

She became the centre of a group of listeners. The interest she excited dissipated, in some degree, the dread

inspired by the mysterious voices. There was nothing ominous about this bright, fair reality, though her

Little Rol crept near, staring at the stranger with all his might. Unnoticed, he softly stroked and patted a

corner of her soft white robe that reached to the floor in ample folds. He laid his cheek against it caressingly,

The stranger's smile and ready answer, as she looked down, saved Rol from the rebuke merited by his

"My real name," she said, "would be uncouth to your ears and tongue. The folk of this country have given me

another name, and from this? she laid her hand on the fur robe "They call me 'White Fell.'"

Little Rol repated it to himself, stroking and patting as before. "White Fell, White Fell."

The fair face, and soft, beautiful dress pleased Rol. He knelt up, with his eyes on her face and an air of

uncertain determination, like a robin's on a doorstep, and plumped his elbows into her lap with a little gasp at

"Rol!" exclaimed his aunt; but "Oh, let him!" said White Fell, smiling and stroking his head; and Rol stayed.

He advanced farther, and, panting at his own adventurousness, in the face of his auntís authority, climbed up

on to her knees. Her welcoming arms hindered any protest. He nestled happily, fingering the axe head, the

ivory studs in her girdle, the ivory clasp at her throat, the plaits of fair hair; rubbing his head against the

softness of her furclad shoulder, with a childís confidence in the kindness of beauty.

White Fell had not uncovered her head, only knotted the pendant fur loosely behind her neck. Rol reached up

his hand toward it, whispering her name to himself, "White Fell, White Fell," then slid his arms round her

"No, indeed," she answered, with an eagerness so intense as to seem disproportionate to the occasion.

Rol settled himself again on her lap and began to unwind the bandage bound round his hand. He paused a

little when he saw where the blood had soaked through, then went on till his hand was bare and the cut

displayed, gaping and long, though only skindeep. He held it up toward White Fell, desirous of her pity and

At sight of it and the bloodstained linen, she drew in her breath suddenly, clasped Rol to her hard, hard

till he began to struggle. Her face was hidden behind the boy, so that none could see its expression. It had

Afar, beyond the fir grove, beyond the low hill behind, the absent Christian was hastening his return. From

daybreak he had been afoot, carrying summons to a bear hunt to all the best hunters of the farms and

hamlets that lay within a radius of twelve miles. Nevertheless, having detained till a late hour, he now broke

He entered the midnight blackness of the fir grove with scarcely slackened pace, though the path was

invisible, and, passing through into the open again, sighted the farm lying a furlong off down the slope. Then

he sprang out freely, and almost on the instant gave one great sideways leap and stood still. There in the snow

His hand went to his knife, his only weapon. He stooped, knelt down, to bring his eyes to the level of a beast,

and peered about, his teeth set, his heart beating a little harder than the pace of his running had set it. A

solitary wolf, nearly always savage and of large size, is a formidable beast that will not hesitate to attack a

single man. This wolf track was the largest Christian had ever seen, and, as far as he could judge, recently

made. It led from under the firtrees down the slope. Well for him, he thought, was the delay that had so

vexed him before; well for him that he had not passed through the dark fir grove when that danger of jaws

It led down the slope, across a broad icebound stream, along the level beyond, leading toward the farm. A

less sure knowledge than Christian's might have doubted of it being a wolf track, and guessed it to be made

by Tyr or some other large dog; but he was sure, and knew better than to mistake between a wolf's and a

Christian grew surprised and anxious at a prowling wolf daring so near. He drew his knife and pressed on,

Straight on, straight on, even to the very door, where the snow failed. His heart gave a leap and then stop.

Nothing lurked in the porch, and there was no sign of return. The firs stood straight against the sky, the

clouds lay low; for the wind had fallen and a few snowflakes came drifting down. In a horror of surprise,

Christian stood dazed a moment; then he lifted the latch and went in. His glance took in all the old familiar

forms and faces, and with them that of the stranger, furclad and beautiful. The awful truth flashed upon him.

Only a few were startled by the rattle of the latch when he entered. The room was filled with bustle and

movement, for it was the supper hour, and all tools were being put aside and trestles and tables shifted.

Christian had no knowledge of what he said and did; he moved and spoke mechanically, half thinking that

soon he would wake from this horrible dream. Sweyn and his mother supposed him to be cold and

deadtired, and spared all unnecessary questions. And he found himself seated beside the hearth, opposite

that dreadful Thing that looked like a beautiful girl, watching her every movement, curdling with horror to

Sweyn stood near them both, intent upon White Fell also, but how differently! She seemed unconscious of

the gaze of both neither aware of the chill dread in the eyes of Christian, nor of Sweyn's warm admiration.

These two brothers, who were twins, contrasted greatly, despite their striking likeness. They were alike in

regular profile, fair brown hair, and deep blue eyes; but Sweyn's features were perfect as a young god's, while

Christian's showed faulty detail. Thus, the line of his mouth was set too straight, the eyes shelved too deeply

back, and the contour of the face flowed in less generous curves than Sweyn's. Their height was the same, but

Christian was too slender for perfect proportion, while Sweyn's wellknit frame, broad shoulders and

muscular arms made him preeminent for manly beauty as well as strength. As a hunter Sweyn was without

rival; as a fisher without rival. All the countryside acknowledged him to be the best wrestler, rider, dancer,

singer. Only in speed could he be surpassed, and in that only by his younger brother. All others Sweyn could

distance fairly; but Christian could outrun him easily. Ay, he could keep pace with Sweyn's most breathless

Christian took little pride in his fleetness of foot, counting a man's legs to be the least worthy of his limbs. He

had no envy of his brother's athletic superiority, though to several feats he had made a moderate second. He

loved as only a twin can love proud of all that Sweyn did, content with all Sweyn was, humbly content also

that his own great love should not be so exceedingly returned, since he knew himself to be so far less

Christian dared not, in the midst of women and children, launch the horror that he knew into words. He

waited to consult his brother; but Sweyn did not, or would not, notice the signal he made, and kept his face

always turned toward White Fell. Christian drew away from the hearth unable to remain passive with that

"Where is Tyr?" he said, suddenly. Then catching sight of the dog in a distant corner, "Why is he chained

Christian's eyes glowed. "Yes?" he said interrogatively, and, rising, went without a word to the corner where

Tyr was chained. The dog rose up to meet him, as piteous and indignant as a dumb beast can be. He stroked

Christian's eyes turned again toward White Fell. Tyr's also, and he strained against the length of the chain.

Christian's hand lay on the dog's neck, and he felt it ridge and bristle with the quivering of impotent fury.

Then he began to quiver in like manner, with a fury born of reason, not instinct; as impotent morally as was

Tyr physically. Oh, the woman's form that he dare not touch! Anything but that, and he with Tyr, would be

For answer, he was told in a low undertone of the summons at the door, thrice repeated, without human

Christian turned toward his brother in a torment of impatience for a word apart. The board was spread and

Sweyn was leading White Fell to the guest's place. This was more awful! She would break bread with them

He started forward and, touching Sweyn's arm, whispered an urgent entreaty. Sweyn stared, and shook his

His opportunity came at last. White Fell questioned the landmarks of the country, and of one Cairn Hill,

which was an appointed meeting place at which she was due that night. The house mistress and Sweyn both

"It is three long miles away," said Sweyn, "with no other shelter but a wretched hut. Stay with us this night

White Fell seemed to hesitate. "Three miles," she said, "Then I should be able to see or hear a signal."

"I will look out," said Sweyn; "Then if there be no signal, you must not leave us."

Christian drew him out of the porch, pointing to the snow where the footmarks had been had been, for now

It was impossible not to be startled by the tone alone, though it was hardly above a whisper. Sweyn eyed his

brother anxiously, but in the darkness could make nothing of his face. Then he laid his hands kindly and

reassuringly on Christian's shoulders and felt how he was quivering with excitement and horror.

"One sees strange things," he said, "when the cold has got into the brain behind the eyes; you came in cold

"No," interrupted Christian. "I saw the track first on the brow of the slope, and followed it down right here to

Sweyn in his heart felt positive that it was. Christian was given to day dreams and strange fancies, though

"Don't you believe me?" said Christian desperately. "You must. I swear it is the truth. Are you blind? Why,

"You will be clearerheaded tomorrow, after a night's rest. Then come, too, if you will, with White Fell, to

the Hill Cairn, and, if you have doubts still, watch and follow, and see what footprints she leaves."

Galled by Sweyn's evident contempt, Christian turned abruptly to the door. Sweyn caught him back.

Customarily Christian was so docile to his brother's mastery that it was now a surprising thing when he

wrenched himself free vigorously and said as determinedly as Sweyn: "She shall know." But Sweyn was

"There has been scare enough for one night already. If this notion of yours will keep, broach it tomorrow."

"Women are so easily scared," pursued Sweyn, "and are ready to believe any folly without proof. Be a man,

"I believe you to be a fool," said Sweyn, losing patience. "Another, who was not your brother, might think

you a knave, and guess that you had transformed White Fell into a werewolf because she smiled more

The jest was not without foundation, for the grace of White Fell's bright looks had been bestowed on him

on Christian never a whit. Sweyn's coxcombry was always frank and most forgivable, and not without

"If you want an ally," continued Sweyn, "Confide in old Trella. Out of her stories of wisdom if her memory

holds good she can instruct you in the orthodox manner of tackling a werewolf. If I remember aright, you

should watch the suspected person till midnight, when the beast's form must be resumed, and retained ever

after if a human eye sees the change; or, better still, sprinkle hands and feet with holy water, which is certain

Sweyn's contempt was no longer goodhumored, for he began to feel excessively annoyed at this monstrous

"You speak of them as old wives' tales, but if you had seen the proof I have seen, you would be ready at least

"Well," said Sweyn, with a laugh that had a little sneer in it, "put them to the test I will not mind that, if you

will only keep your notions to yourself. Now, Christian, give me your word for silence, and we will freeze

Sweyn put his hands on his shoulders again and vainly tried to see his face in the darkness.

"I have never quarreled," returned the other, aware for the first time that his dictatorial brother had sometimes

"Well," said Sweyn, empathetically, "if you speak against White Fell to any other, as tonight you have

He delivered the words like an ultimatum, turned sharp round and reentered the house. Christian, more

White Fell's eyes passed over Christian without apparent notice, and turned bright and shining upon Sweyn.

"Nor any signal to be heard?" she queried. "Did you not hear the sound of a seahorn?"

"I saw nothing and heard nothing; and signal or no signal, the heavy snow would keep you here perforce."

She smiled her thanks beautifully. And Christian's heart sank like lead with a deadly foreboding, as he noted

That night, when all others slept, Christian, the weariest of all, watched outside the guest chamber till

midnight was past. No sound, not the faintest, could be heard. Could the old tale be true of a midnight

change? What was on the other side of the door a woman or a beast he would have given his right hand to

know. Instinctively he laid his hand on the latch and drew it softly, though believing that bolts fastened the

inner side. The door yielded to his hand; he stood on the threshold; a keen gust of air cut at him. The window

In the morning there was surprise and conjecture when White Fell's absence was discovered. Christian held

his peace; not even to his brother did he say how he knew that she had fled before midnight; and Sweyn,

though evidently greatly chagrined, seemed to disdain reference to the subject of Christian's fears.

The elder brother alone joined the bear hunt; Christian found pretext to stay behind. Sweyn, being out of

All that day, and for many a day after, Christian would never go out of sight of his home. Sweyn alone

noticed how he manoeuvred for this, and was clearly annoyed by it. White Fell's name was never mentioned

between them, though not seldom was it heard in general talk. Hardly a day passed without little Rol asking

when White Fell would come again; pretty White Fell, who kissed like a snowflake. And if Sweyn answered,

Christian would be quite sure that the light in his eyes, kindled by White Fell's smile, had not yet died out.

Little Rol! Naughty, merry, fairhaired little Rol! A day came when his feet raced over the threshold never to

return; when his chatter and laugh were heard no more; when tears of anguish were wept by eyes that never

He was seen at dusk for the last time, escaping from the house with his puppy, in freakish rebellion against

old Trella. Later, when his absence had begun to cause anxiety, his puppy crept back to the farm, cowed,

whimpering, and yelping a pitiful, dumb lump of terror without intelligence or courage to guide the

Rol was never found, nor any trace of him. How he had perished was known only by an awful guess a wild

Christian heard the conjecture, "A wolf," and a horrible certainty flashed upon him that he knew what wolf it

was. He tried to declare what he knew, but Sweyn saw him start at the words with white face and struggling

lips, and, guessing his purpose, pulled him back and kept him silent, hardly, by his imperious grip and

wrathful eyes, and one low whisper. Again Christian yielded to his brother's stronger words and will, and

Repentance came before the new moon the first of the year was old. White Fell came again, smiling as

she entered as though assured of a glad and kindly welcome; and, in truth, there was only one who saw again

her fair face and strange white garb without pleasure. Sweyn's face glowed again with delight, while

Christian's grew pale and rigid as death. He had given his word to keep silence, but he had not thought that

she would dare to come again. Silence was impossible face to face with that Thing impossible.

Not a quiver disturbed White Fell's face; she heard, yet remained bright and tranquil Sweyn's eyes flashed

round at his brother dangerously. Among the women some tears fell at the poor child's name, but none caught

alarm from its sudden utterance, for the thought of Rol rose naturally. Where was Rol, who had nestled in the

stranger's arms, kissing her, and watched for her since, and prattled of her daily?

Christian went out silently. Only one thing there was that he could do, and he must not delay. His horror

overmastered any curiosity to hear White Fell's glib excuses and smiling apologies for her strange and

uncourteous departure; or her easy tale of the circumstances of her return; or to watch her bearing as she

The swiftest runner of the countryside had started on his hardest race little less than three leagues and back,

which he reckoned to accomplish in two hours, though the night was moonless and the way rugged. He

rushed against the still cold air till it felt like a wind upon his face. The dim homestead sunk below the ridges

at his back, and fresh ridges of snowlands rose out of the obscure horizon level to drive past him as the

stirless air drove, and sink away behind into obscure level again. He took no conscious heed of landmarks,

not even when all sign of a path was gone under the depths of snow. His will was set to reach his goal with

unexampled speed, and thither by instinct his physical forces bore him, without one definite thought to guide.

And the idle brain lay passive, inert, receiving into its vacancy, restless siftings of past sights and sounds; Rol

weeping, laughing, playing, coiled in the arms of that dreadful Thing; Tyr O Tyr! white fangs in the black

jowl; the women who wept on the foolish puppy, precious for the child's last touch; footprints from pinewood

to door; the smiling face among furs, of such womanly beauty smiling smiling; and Sweyn's face.

Sweyn's angry laugh possessed his ear within the sound of the wind of his speed; Sweyn's scorn assailed

more quick and keen than the biting cold at his throat. And yet he was unimpressed by any thought of how

To the younger brother all life was a spiritual mystery, veiled from clear knowledge by the density of flesh.

Since he knew his own body to be linked to the complex and antagonistic forces that constitute one soul, it

seemed to him not impossibly strange that one spiritual force should possess diverse forms for widely various

manifestation. Nor, to him, was it great effort to believe that as pure water washes away all natural from that

supernatural evil Thing. Therefore, faster than ever man's foot had covered those leagues, he sped under the

dark, still night, over the waste trackless snow ridges to the faraway church where salvation lay in the

holywater stoop at the door. His faith was as firm as any that wrought miracles in days past, simple as a

He was hardly missed during these hours, every second of which was by him fulfilled to its utmost extent by

extremest effort that sinews and nerves could attain. Within the homestead the while easy moments went

bright with words and looks of unwonted animation, for the kindly hospitable instincts of the inmates were

roused into cordial expression of welcome and interest by the grace and beauty of the returned stranger.

But Sweyn was eager and earnest, with more than a host's courteous warmth. The impression that at her first

coming had charmed him, that had lived since through memory, deepened now in her actual presence.

Sweyn, the matchless among men, acknowledged in this fair White Fell a spirit high and bold as his own, and

a frame so firm and capable that only bulk was lacking for equal strength. Yet the white skin was moulded

most smoothly, without such muscular swelling as made his might evident. Such love as his frank selflove

could concede was called forth by an ardent admiration for this supreme stranger. More admiration than love

was in his passion, and therefore he was free from a lover's hesitancy, and delicate reserve and doubts.

Frankly and boldly he courted her favor by looks and tones, and an address that was his by natural ease.

Nor was she a woman to be wooed otherwise. Tender whispers and sighs would never gain her ear; but her

eyes would brighten and shine if she heard of a brave feat, and her prompt hand in sympathy would fall

swiftly on the axe haft and clasp it hard. That movement ever fired Sweyn's admiration anew; he watched for

it, strove to elicit it and glowed when it came. Wonderful and beautiful was that wrist, slender and

steelstrong; the smooth shapely hand that curved so fast and firm, ready to deal instant death.

Desiring to feel the pressure of these hands, this bold lover schemed with palpable directness, proposing that

she should hear how their hunting songs were sung, with a chorus that signalled hands to be clasped. So

claimed his splendid voice gave the verses, and, as the chorus was taken up, he claimed her hands, and, even

through the easy grip, felt, as he desired, the strength that was latent, and the vigor that quickened the very

finger tips, as the song fired her, and her voice was caught out of her by the rhythmic swell and rang clear on

Afterward she sang alone. For contrast, or in the pride of swaying moods by her voice, she chose a mournful

Old Trella came tottering from her corner, shaken to additional palsy by an aroused memory. She strained her

dim eyes toward the singer, and then bent her head that the one ear yet sensible to sound might avail of every

note. At the close, groping forward, she murmured with the high pitched quaver of old age:

"So she sang, my Thora; my last and brightest. What is she like she, whose voice is like my dead Thora's?

"Even so," answered White Fell herself, and met the advancing hands with her own, and guided them to

"Like my dead Thora's," repeated the old woman; and then her trembling hands rested on the furclad

shoulders and she bent forward and kissed the smooth fair face that White Fell upturned, nothing loath to

He stood a moment. After the starless darkness and the icy night air, and the fierce silent two hours' race, his

senses reeled on sudden entrance into warmth and light and the cheery hum of voices. A sudden unforeseen

anguish assailed him, as now first he entertained the possibility of being overmatched by her wiles and her

daring, if at the approach of pure death she should start up at bay transformed to a terrible beast, and achieve

a savage glut at the last. He looked with horror and pity on the harmless helpless folk, so unwitting of outrage

to their comfort and security. The dreadful Thing in their midst, that was veiled from their knowledge by

womanly beauty, was a centre of pleasant interest. There, before him, signally impressive, was poor old

Trella, weakest and feeblest of all, in fond nearness. And a moment might bring about the revelation of a

monstrous horror a ghastly, deadly danger, set loose and at bay, in a circle of girls and women, and

For one breathing space he faltered, no longer than that, while over him swept the agony of compunction that

He alone? Nay, but Tyr also, and he crossed to the dumb sole sharer of his knowledge.

So timeless is thought that a few seconds only lay between his lifting of the latch and his loosening of Tyr's

collar; but in those few seconds succeeding his first glance, as lightningswift had been the impulses of

others, their motion as quick and sure. Sweyn's vigilant eye had darted upon him, and instantly his every fiber

was alert with hostile instinct; and, half divining, half incredulous, of Christian's object in stooping to Tyr, he

came hastily, wary, wrathful, resolute to oppose the malice of his wildeyed brother.

But beyond Sweyn rose White Fell, blanching white as her furs, and with eyes grown fierce and wild. She

leaped down the room to the door, whirling her long robe closely to her. "Hark!" she panted. "The signal

For one precious moment Christian had hesitated on the half loosened collar; for, except the womanly form

were exchanged for the bestial, Tyr's jaws would gnash to rags his honor of manhood. He heard her voice,

As she tugged at the door, he sprang across grasping his flask, but Sweyn dashed between and caught him

back irresistibly, so that a most frantic effort only availed to wrench one arm free. With that, on the impulse

of sheer despair, he cast at her with all his force. The door swung behind her, and the flask flew into

fragments against it. Then, as Sweyn's grasp slackened, and he met the questioning astonishment of

Sweyn turned upon him, "Liar, coward!" and his hands gripped his brother's throat with deadly force as

though the spoken word could be killed so, and, as Christian struggled, lifted him clear off his feet and flung

him crashing backward. So furious was he that, as his brother lay motionless, he stirred him roughly with his

foot, till their mother came between, crying, "Shame!" and yet then he stood by, his teeth set, his brows knit,

his hands clenched, ready to enforce silence again violently, as Christian rose, staggering and bewildered.

But utter silence and submission was more than he expected, and turned his anger into contempt for one so

easily cowed and held in subjection by mere force. "He is mad!?he said, turning on his heel as he spoke, so

that he lost his mother's look of pained reproach at this sudden free utterance of what was a lurking dread

Christian was too spent for the effort of speech. His hard drawn breath labored in great sobs; his limbs were

powerless and unstrung in utter relax after hard service. His failure in this endeavor induced a stupor of

misery and despair. In addition was the wretched humiliation of open violence and strife with his brother, and

the distress of hearing misjudging contempt expressed without reserve, for he was aware that Sweyn had

turned to allay the scared excitement half by imperious master half by explanation and argument that showed

Sweyn the while was observant of his brother, despite the continual check of finding, turn and glance where

he would, Christian's eyes always upon him, with a strange look of helpless distress, discomposing enough to

the angry aggressor. "Like a beaten dog!" he said to himself, rallying contempt to withstand compunction.

Observation set him wondering on Christian's exhausted condition. The heavy laboring breath and the slack,

inert fall of the limbs told surely of unusual and prolonged exertion. And then why had close upon two hours

absence been followed by manifestly hostile behavior toward White Fell? Suddenly, the fragments of the

flask giving a clue, he guessed all, and faced about to stare at his brother in amaze. He forgot that the motive

scheme was against White Fell, demanding derision and resentment from him; that was swept out of

That night Sweyn and his mother talked long and late together, shaping into certainty the suspicion that

Christian's mind had lost its balance, and discussing the evident cause. For Sweyn, declaring his own love for

White Fell, suggested that his unfortunate brother with a like passion they being twins in love as in birth

had through jealousy and despair turned from love to hate, until reason failed at the strain, and a craze

developed, which the malice and treachery of madness made a serious and dangerous force.

So Sweyn theorized; convincing himself as he spoke; convincing afterward others who advanced doubts

against White Fell; fettering his judgment by his advocacy, and by his staunch defence of her hurried flight,

But a little time and Sweyn lost his vantage in the shock of a fresh horror at the homestead. Trella was no

more, and her end a mystery. The old woman crawled out in a bright gleam to visit a bedridden gossip

Under the trees she was last seen halting for her companion, sent back for a forgotten present. Quick alarm

sprang, calling every man to the search. Her stick was found among the brushwood near the path, but no track

or stain, for a gusty wind was siftng the snow from the branches and hid all sign of how she had came by her

So panicstricken were the farm folk that none dared go singly on the search. Known danger could be braced,

but not this stealthy Death that walked by day invisible, that cut off alike the child in his play and the aged

"Rol she kissed; Trella she kissed!" So rang Christian's frantic cry again and again, till Sweyn dragged him

But thenceforward all Sweyn's reasoning and mastery could not uphold White Fell above suspicion. He was

not called upon to defend her from accusation, when Christian had been brought to silence again; but he well

knew the significance of this fact, that her name, formerly uttered freely and often, he never heard it now it

For a time the twins' variance was marked on Sweyn's part by an air of rigid indifference, on Christian's by

heavy downcast silence, and a nervous, apprehensive observation of his brother. Superadded to his remorse

and foreboding, Sweyn's displeasure weighed upon him intolerably, and the remembrance of their violent

rupture was ceaseless misery. The elder brother, selfsufficient and insensitive, could little know how deeply

his unkindness stabbed. A depth and force of affection such as Christian's was unknown to him, and his

brother's ceaseless surveillance annoyed him greatly. Therefore, that suspicion might be lulled, he judged it

wise to make overtures for peace. Most easily done. A little kindliness, a few evidences of consideration, a

slight return of the old brotherly imperiousness, and Christian replied by a gratefulness and relief that might

have touched him had he understood all, but instead increased his secret contempt.

So successful was his finesse that when, late on a day, a message summoning Christian to a distance was

transmitted by Sweyn no doubt of its genuineness occurred. When, his errand proving useless, he set out to

return, mistake or misapprehension was all that he surmised. Not till he sighted the homestead, lying low

between the night gray snow ridges, did vivid recollection of the time when he had tracked that horror to the

His grasp tightened on the bearspear that he carried as a staff; every sense was alert, every muscle strung;

excitement urged him on, caution checked him, and the two governed his long stride, swiftly, noiselessly to

As he drew near to the outer gates, a light shadow stirred and went, as though the gray of the snow had taken

They had been together close. Had she not been in his arms, near enough for lips to meet?

There was no moon, but the stars gave light enough to show that Sweyn's face was flushed and elate. The

flush remained, thought eh expression changed quickly at the sight of his brother. How, if Christian had seen

all, should one of his frenzied outbursts be met and managed by resolution? by indifference? He halted

"Yes?" Sweyn's answer was a query, with an intonation that implied he was clearing the ground for action.

From Christian came, "Have you kissed her?" like a bolt direct, staggering Sweyn by its sheer, prompt

He flushed yet darker, and yet half smiled over this earnest of success he had won. Had there been really

between himself and Christian the rivalry that he imagined, his face had enough of the insolence of triumph

The ring of despair and anguish in his tone angered Sweyn, misconstruing it. Jealousy so presumptuous was

"Mad fool!" he said, constraining himself no longer. "Win for yourself a woman to kiss. Leave mine without

question. Such a one as I should desire to kiss is such a one as shall never allow a kiss to you."

"I I !" he cried. "White Fell that deadly Thing! Sweyn, are you blind, mad? I would save you from her

Sweyn maddened again at the accusation a dastardly way of revenge, as he conceived; and instantly, for the

second time, the brothers were at strife violently. But Christian was now too desperate to be scrupulous; for a

dim glimpse had shot a possibility into his mind, and to be free to follow it the striking of his brother was a

Facing his assailant with the bearspear, he struck up his arms, and with the butt end hit so hard that he fell.

Sweyn, on regaining his feet, was as amazed as angry at this unaccountable flight. He knew in his heart that

his brother was no coward, and that it was unlike him to shrink from an encounter because defeat was certain,

and cruel humiliation from a vindictive victor probable. Of the uselessness of pursuit he was well aware; he

must abide his chagrin until his time for advantage should come. Since White Fell had parted to the right,

And now, Christian, acting on the dim glimpse he had had, just as Sweyn turned upon him, of something that

moved against the sky along the ridge behind the homestead, was staking his only hope on a chance, and his

own superlative speed. If what he saw was really White Fell, he guessed that she was bending her steps

toward the open wastes; and there was just a possibility that, by a straight dash, and a desperate, perilous leap

over a sheer bluff, he might yet meet or head her. And then he had no further thought.

It was past, the quick, fierce race, and the chance of death at the leap, and he halted in a hollow to fetch his

She came with a smooth, gliding, noiseless speed, that was neither walking nor running; her arms were folded

in her furs that were drawn tight about her body; the white lappets from her head were wrapped and knotted

close beneath her face; her eyes were set on a far distance. Then the even sway of her going was startled to a

She drew a quick, sharp breath at the sound of her name thus mutilated, and she faced Sweyn's brother. Her

eyes glittered; her upper lip was lifted and she showed the teeth. The half of her name, impressed with an

ominous sense as uttered by him, warned her of the aspect of a deadly foe. Yet she cast loose her robes till

"You kissed Rol and Rol is dead! You kissed Trella she is dead! You have kissed Sweyn, my brother, but

The edge of the teeth and the glitter of the eyes stayed a moment, and her right hand also slid down to the axe

haft. Then, without a word, she swerved from him, and sprang out and away swiftly over the snow.

And Christian sprang out and away, and followed her swiftly over the snow, keeping behind, but half a

So they went running together, silent, toward the vast wastes of snow where no living thing but they two

Never before had Christian so rejoiced in his powers. The gift of speed and the training of use and endurance

were priceless to him now. Though midnight was hours away he was confident that go where that Fell Thing

would hasten as she would, she could not outstrip him, nor escape from him. Then, when came the time for

transformation, when the womanís form made no longer a shield against a man's hand, he could slay or be

slain to save Sweyn. He had struck his dear brother in dire extremity, but he could not, though reason urged,

For one mile, for two miles they ran; White Fell ever foremost, Christian ever at an equal distance from her

side, so near that, now and again, her outflying furs touched him. She spoke no word; nor he. She never

turned her head to look at him, nor swerved to evade him; but, with set face looking forward, sped straight

on, over rough, over smooth, aware of his nearness by the regular beat of his feet, and the sound of his breath

In a while she quickened her pace. From the first Christian had judged of her speed as admirable, yet with

exulting security in his own excelling and enduring whatever her efforts. But, when the pace increased, he

found himself put to the test as never had been done before in any race. Her feet indeed flew faster than his; it

was only by his length of stride that he kept pace at her side. But his heart was high and resolute, and he did

So the desperate race flew on. Their feet struck up the powdery snow, their breath smoked into the sharp,

clear air, and they were gone before the air was cleared of snow and vapor. Now and then Christian glanced

up to judge, by the rising of the stars, of the coming of midnight. So long so long!

White Fell held on without slack. She, it was evident, with confidence in her speed proving matchless, as

resolute to outrun her pursuer, as he to endure to midnight and fulfill his purpose. And Christian held on, still

selfassured. He could not fail, he would not fail. To avenge Rol and Trella was motive enough for him to do

what man could do; but for Sweyn more. She had kissed Sweyn, but he should not die, too with Sweyn to

Never before was there a race as this; no, not when in old Greece man and maid raced together with two fates

at stake; for the hard running was sustained unabated, while star after star rose and went wheeling up toward

Then Christian saw and heard what shot him through with fear. Where a fringe of trees hung round a slope he

saw something dark moving, and heard a yelp, followed by a full, horrid cry, and the dark spread out upon

Of the beasts alone he had little cause for fear; at the pace he held he could distance them, four footed though

they were. But of White Fellís wiles he had infinite apprehension, for how might she not avail herself of the

savage jaws of these wolves, akin as they were to half her nature. She vouchsafed to them nor look nor sign;

but Christian, on an impulse, to assure himself that she should not escape him, caught and held the

She turned like a flash with a beastly snarl, teeth and eyes gleaming again. Her axe shone on the upstroke, on

the downstroke, as she hacked at his hand. She had lopped it off at the wrist, but that he had parried with the

bearspear. Even then, she shore through the shaft and shattered the bones of the hand, so that he loosed

Then again they raced on as before, Christian not losing a pace, though his left hand swung bleeding and

The snarl, indubitably, though modified from a womanís organs; the vicious fury revealed in teeth and eyes;

the sharp, arrogant pain of her maiming blow, caught away Christianís heed of the beasts behind, by striking

into him close, vivid realization of the infinitely greater danger that ran before in that deadly Thing.

When he bethought to look behind, lo! the pack had but reached their tracks, and instantly slunk aside,

cowed; the yell of pursuit changing to yelps and whines. So abhorrent was that Fell creature to beast as to

She had drawn her furs more closely to her, disposing them so that, instead of flying loose to her heels, no

drapery hung lower than her knees, and this without a check to her wonderful speed, nor embarrassment by

the cumbering of the folds. She held her head as before; her lips were firmly set, only the tense nostrils gave

her breath; not a sign of distress witnessed to the long sustaining of that terrible speed.

But on Christian by now the strain was telling palpably. His head weighed heavy, and his breath came

laboring in great sobs; the bearspear would have been a burden now. His heart was beating like a hammer,

but such a dullness oppressed his brain that it was only by degrees he could realize his helpless state;

wounded and weaponless, chasing that Thing, that was a fierce, desperate, axearmed woman, except she

So far was his brain astray that an impression took him that she was fleeing from the midnight stars, whose

gain was by such slow degrees that a time equaling days and days had gone in the race round the northern

circle of the world, and days and days as long as might last before the end except she slackened, or except

How long had he been praying so? He had started with a selfconfidence and reliance that had felt no need

for that aid; and now it seemed the only means by which to restrain his heart from swelling beyond the

compass of his body; by which to cherish his brain from dwindling and shriveling away. Some sharptoothed

creature kept tearing and dragging on his maimed left hand; he never could see it, he could not shake it off,

The clear stars before him took to shuddering and he knew why; they shuddered at sight of what was behind

him. He had never divined before that strange Things hid themselves from men, under pretence of being

snowclad mounds of swaying trees; but they now came slipping out from their harmless covers to follow

him, and mock at his impotence to make a kindred Thing resolve to truer form. He knew that the air behind

him was thronged; he heard the hum of innumerable murmurings to another; but his eyes could never catch

them they were too swift and nimble; but he knew they were there, because, on a backward glance, he saw

the snow mounds surge as they grovelled flatlings out of sight; he saw the trees reel as they screwed

And after such glance, the stars returned to steadfastness, and an infinite stretch of silence froze upon the

chill, gray world, only deranged by the swift, even beat of flying feet, and his own slower from the longer

stride, and the sound of his breath. And for some clear moments he knew that his only concern was to sustain

his speed regardless of pain and distress, to deny with every nerve he had her power to outstrip him or to

A hideous check came to the race. White Fell swirled about and leapt to the right, and Christian, unprepared

for so prompt a lurch, found close at his feet a deep pit yawning, and his own impetus past control. But he

snatched at her as he bore past, clasping her right arm with his one whole hand, and the two swung together

And her straining away in selfpreservation was vigorous enough to counterbalance his headlong impulse,

Then, before he was verily sure that they were not to perish so, crashing down, he saw her gnashing in wild,

pale fury, as she wrenched to be free; and since her right arm was in his grasp, used her axe lefthanded,

The blow was effectual enough even so; his right arm dropped powerless, gashed and with the lesser bone

broken that jarred with horrid pain when he let it swing, as he leaped out again, and ran to recover the few

The near escape and this new, quick pain made again every faculty alive and intense. He knew that what he

followed was most surely Death animate; wounded and helpless, he was utterly at her mercy if so she should

realize and take action. Hopeless to avenge, hopeless to save, his very despair for Sweyn swept him on to

follow and follow and precede the kissdoomed death. Could he fail to hunt that Thing past midnight, out of

the womanly form, alluring and treacherous, into lasting restraint of the bestial, which was the last shred of

The last hour from midnight had lost half its quarters, and the stars went lifting up the great minutes, an again

his greatening heart and his shrinking brain and the sickening agony that swung at either side conspired to

Now White Fellís body was so closely enveloped that not a lap or an edge flew free. She stretched forward

strangely aslant, leaning from the upright poise of a runner. She cleared the ground at times by large bounds,

He grew bewildered, uncertain of his own identity, doubting of his own true form. He could not really be a

man, no more than that running Thing was really a woman; his real form was only hidden under embodiment

of a man, but what he was he did not know. And Sweynís real form he did not know. Sweyn lay fallen at his

feet, where he had struck him down his own brother he; he had stumbled over him and had to overleap

him and race harder because she who had kissed Sweyn leapt so fast. "Sweyn Sweyn O Sweyn!"

The leaning, leaping Thing looked back at him a wild, fierce look, and laughed in a savage scorn and

triumph. He saw in a flash why, for within a time measurable by seconds she would have escaped him utterly.

As the land lay a slope of ice sunk on the one hand; on the other hand a steep rose, shouldering forward;

between the two was space for a foot to be planted, but none for a body to stand; yet a juniper bough,

thrusting out, gave a handhold secure enough for one with a resolute grasp to swing past the perilous place,

Though the first seconds of the last moment were going, she dared to flash back a wicked look, and laugh at

The crisis struck convulsive life into his last supreme effort; his will surged up indomitable, his speed proved

matchless yet. He leapt with a rush, passed her before her laugh had time to go out, and turned short, barring

She came hurling desperate, with a feint to the right hand, and then launched herself upon him with a spring

like a wild beast when it leaps to kill. And he, with one strong arm and a hand that could not hold, with one

strong hand and an arm that could not guide and sustain, he caught and held her even so. And they fell

together. And because he felt his whole arm slipping and his whole hand loosing, to slack the dreadful agony

of the wrenched bone above, he caught and held with his teeh the tunic at her knee, as she struggled up and

Like lightening she snatched her axe, and struck him on the neck deep once twice his lifeblood

The death scream he heard was not his, for his set teeth had hardly yet relaxed when it rang out. And the

dreadful cry began with a womanís shriek, and changed and ended as the yell of a beast. And before the final

blank overtook his dying eyes, he saw the She gave place to the It; he saw more, that Life gave place to Death

For he did not dream that no holy water could be more holy, more potent to destroy an evil thing than the

His own true hidden identity that he had desire to know grew palpable, recognizable. It seemed to him just

this: a great, glad, abounding hole that he had saved his brother; too expansive to be contained by the limited

What did it matter that to true reality that the manís brain shrank, shrank, till it was nothing; that the manís

body could not retain the huge pain of his heart, and heaved it out through the red exit riven at the neck: that

In the early gray of day Sweyn chanced upon the footprints of a man of a runner, as he saw by the shifted

snow; and the direction they had taken aroused curiosity, since a little farther their line must be crossed by the

He turned to trace them. And so doing, the length of the stride struck his attention a stride long as his own

In his anger he had hardened himself to be indifferent to the nightlong absence of his brother; but now,

seeing where the footsteps went, he was seized with compunction and dread. He had failed to give thought

and care to his poor, frantic twin, who might was it possible? have rushed to a frantic death.

His heart stood still when he came to the place where the leap had been taken. A piled edge of snow had

fallen, too, and nothing lay below when he peered. Along the upper edge he ran for a furlong, till he came to

a dip where he could slip and climb down, then back again on the lower level to the pile of fallen snow. There

He stood pondering; vexed that any man should have taken that leap where he had not ventured to follow;

guessing vainly at Christianís object in this mad freak. He began sauntering along halfunconsciously

following his brotherís track, and so in a while he came to the place where the footprints were doubled.

Small prints were these others, small as a womanís, though the pace from one to another was longer than that

A dreadful guess appalled him so dreadful that he recoiled from belief. Yet his face grew ashy white, and

he gasped to fetch back motion to his checked heart. Unbelievable? Closer attention showed how the smaller

footfall had altered for greater speed, striking into the snow with a deeper onset and a lighter pressure on the

heels. Unbelievable? Could any woman but White Fell run so? Could any man but Christian run so? The

guess became a certainty. He was following where alone in the dark night White Fell had fled from Christian

Such villainy set heart and brain on fire with rage and indignation such villainy in his own brother, till

lately loveworthy, praiseworthy, though a fool for meekness. He would kill Christian; had he lives as many as

the footprints he had trodden, vengeance should demand them all. In a tempest of murderous hate he followed

on in haste, for the track was plain enough; starting with such a burst of speed as could not be maintained, but

Mile after mile he traveled with a bursting heart; more piteous, more tragic, seemed the case at this evidence

of White Fellís splendid supremacy, holding her own so long against Christianís famous speed. So long, so

long, that his love and admiration grew more and more boundless, and his grief and indignation therewith

also. Whenever the track lay clear he ran, with such reckless prodigality of strength that it was soon spent,

and he dragged on heavily, till, sometimes on the ice of a mere, sometimes on a windswept place, all signs

were lost; but, so undeviating had been their line, that a course straight on, and then a short questing to either

Hour after hour had gone by through more than half that winter day, before ever he came to the place where

the trampled snow showed that a scurry of feet had come and gone! Wolves feet and gone most amazingly!

Only a little beyond he came to the lopped point of Christianís bearspear farther on he would see where

the remnant of the useless shaft had been dropped. The snow here was dashed with blood, and the footsteps

of the two had fallen closer together. Some hoarse sound of exultation came from him that might have been a

laugh had breath sufficed. "O White Fell, my poor brave love! Well struck!" he groaned, torn by his pity and

The sight of blood inflamed him as it might a beast that ravens. He grew mad with a desire to once again have

Christian by the throat, not to loose this time till he had crushed out his life or beat out his life or stabbed

out his life or all of these, and torn him piecemeal likewise and ah! then, not till then, bleed his heart

with weeping, like a child, like a girl, over the piteous fate of his poor lost love.

On on on through the aching time, toiling and straining in the track of those two superb runners, aware

of the marvel of their endurance, but unaware of the marvel of their speed that in the three hours before

midnight had overpassed all that vast distance that he could only traverse from twilight to twilight. For clear

daylight was passing when he came to the edge of an old marlpit, and saw how the two who had gone before

had stamped and trampled together in desperate peril on the verge. And here fresh blood stains spoke to him

of a valiant defence against his infamous brother; and he followed where the blood had dripped till the cold

had staunched its flow, taking a savage gratification from the evidence that Christian had been gash deeply,

maddening afresh with desire to do likewise more excellently and so slake his murderous hate. And he began

to know that through his despair he had entertained a germ of hope, that grew apace, rained upon by his

He strove on as best he might, wrung now by an access of hope now of despair, in agony to reach the end

Two bodies lay in a narrow place. Christianís was one, but the other beyond not White Fellís. There where

the footsteps ended lay a great white wolf. At the sight, Sweynís strength was blasted; body and soul he was

The stars had grown sure and intense before he stirred from where he had dropped prone. Very feebly he

crawled to his dead brother, and laid his hands upon him, and crouched so, afraid to look or stir further.

Cold stiff hours dead. Yet the dead body was his only shelter and stay in that most dreadful hour. His

soul, stripped bare of all comfort, cowered, shivering, naked, abject, and the living clung to the dead out of

He rose to his knees, lifing the body. Christian had fallen face forward in the snow, with his arms flung up

and wide, and so had the frost made him rigid; strange, ghastly, unyeilding to Sweyn lifting, so that he laid

him down again and crouched above, with his arms fast round him and a low, heartwrung groan.

When at last he found force to raise his brotherís body and gather it in his arms, tight clasped to his breast, he

tried to face the Thing that lay beyond. The sight set his limbs in a palsy with horror and dread. His senses

had failed and fainted in utter cowardice, but for the strength that came from holding dead Christian in his

arms, enabling him to compel his eyes to endure the sight, and take into the brain the complete aspect of the

Thing. No wound only blood stains on the feet. The great, grim jaws had a savage grin, though deadstiff.

And his kiss he could bear it no longer, and turned away, nor ever looked again.

And the dead man in his arms, knowing the full horror, had followed and faced it for his sake; had suffered

agony and death for his sake; in the neck was the deep deathgash, one arm and both hands were dark with

Dead he knew him as in life he had not known him to give the right meed of love and worship. He longed

for annihilation, so he might lose the agony of knowing himself so unworthy of such perfect love. The frozen

calm of death on the face appalled him. He dared not touch it with lips that had cursed so lately, with lips

He struggled to his feet, still clasping Christian. The dead man stood upright within his arms, frozen rigid.

The eyes were not quite closed; the head had stiffened, bowed slightly to one side; the arms stayed straight

and wide. It was the figure of one crucified, the bloodstained hands also conforming.

So living and dead went back along the track, that one had passed in the deepest passion of love, and one in

the deepest passion of hate. All that night Sweyn toiled through the snow, bearing the weight of dead

Christian, treading back along the steps he before had trodden when he was wronging with vilest thoughts

and cursing with murderous hate the brother who all the while lay dead for his sake.