The storm had abated in the night, the weather of the morning was fair, with a wind from the south. Gunnar, when he went out and looked about him, thought that it would be possible to take up the journey by noon.

But there were more serious things to consider of. Frey was dead and in two halves, and how could they go without Frey? How could they go with him either? He did not know what had better be done.

But Sigrid knew very well. When Gunnar came back to her she told him. "We must go on," she said, "and it is for you now to be Frey. You are strikingly like him. You would do much greater miracles than ever he did—as," she said, "you have already done."

Gunnar thought about it. "It could be done, I dare say. But we have no wagoner. You would not have Frey drive his own team."

She said, "We shall easily find a teamster in the country. And until we have one I can drive the beasts."

Gunnar said that that would not suit him at all. But they settled it this way, that he should drive until they were nearing the village, which lay upon a shoulder of the mountain, not far from the pass on the further side. Then Sigrid would go and find a wagoner and return with him.

It was necessary to mend Frey's oak-leaf crown, which was in two pieces. Gunnar joined them neatly together, and gilded the edges of the fracture. The axe had been very sharp, the cut very clean. There was no trouble with Frey's clothing; Gunnar was happy to resume his cloak.

Scarlet paint to his nostrils was all that he needed to make him as like Frey as need be; but he did not need as yet to change his nature and attributes. There would be time enough for that when Sigrid was gone for the wagoner.

They took up the journey again through the fast-melting snow. It was hard work, but the sun was shining, the sky without a cloud; they made way and reached the top of the pass without serious delay. Thence they could see the village below them. They saw also that on that side of the mountain the snow had not drifted so much. It had been exposed to the full fury of the wind, which had blown the snow off as fast as it fell. Gunnar considered that this would be a good place to wait for the teamster; but Sigrid told him that a little way down there was a better. "There is a shelter there," she said, "and a little birch wood. You will be more concealed, and I shall not have so far to come back to you."

Gunnar laughed. "Now that you have me, you are glad of me."

Her answer was a long look, and a sigh from a full heart.

They found the little wood and steered the team there. It was in the full sun, with very little snow. Flowers were blowing there, and the birds very busy. Gunnar kissed Sigrid and saw her go on her errand.

As for her, she went on her way rejoicing. She did what she could not remember to have done before—for she was by nature grave and silent: she sang snatches of little songs, at first with no words to them, but afterwards words came of themselves—names which she had had for Gunnar a long time stored in her heart, and others of the kind. After a few turns of the road she saw a group of men in a walled close, and went to them.

They said that they were expecting Frey and his wagon, fearing that the storm would have stayed him.

"Frey is quite well," she said, "but we have lost our wagoner, who was a Norwegian, and Frey's priest also. He disappeared in the storm, and we suppose he perished in a drift."

"Better men than he have perished last night," said one of the men. "But who may you be, mistress?"

Sigrid said, "I am Frey's wife." And then they all knew her and saluted her with great respect.

"Frey sent me," said she, "to find a man of yours to lead his wagon into your village. Afterwards we must let him choose one who will continue with him on his rounds. It is not likely he will have a new man from every village. He would not be pleased with that."

They talked together, and then said they would all come gladly. "Very good," she said. "You shall all bring us into the village. Now we will go back, for Frey is alone, and I don't know what he may do. He is very strange this morning, and I believe might be dangerous if he were vexed or in any way put out."

They struck off up the mountain, and when they came to the wagon in the birch wood, there stood Frey with shining nostrils, very fierce, in the cart. He had drawn the curtains so that he might look out over the country. Sigrid called their attention to that. "You see how it is with him," she said. "Now I tell you that when I left him those curtains were closely drawn." One of the men said that a night out on the mountain in such a storm was enough to make anybody angry.

He stood up very regally while they stood before him bareheaded. One man said a kind of a prayer, deprecating his anger; but Frey took no notice of him. Sigrid said, "Better get on as soon as may be. He will be hungry, and will do no work until he is satisfied." She got up into the wagon and sat beside Frey, and put her hand within his arm. The men urged the oxen down the road, and so they came to the village.

As soon as Sigrid saw the concourse which was out to meet them she drew the curtains, and was immediately in Gunnar's arms. But then, after that, she had to learn what were his intentions.

He said, "I will have no blood-offerings at all. If they must slay oxen and sheep, let it be for a good dinner. I will join them there and they shall be the better of it, as I shall be. But their offerings shall be gold or silver, or clothing, if they wish to serve me. Eggs, too, I will take, or cheese, or milk, or bread. Therefore, Sigrid, you must make them understand and more than that, you must drive it into the head of the man you choose for priest, that blood-sacrifices are an abomination to me."

She promised him that she would see to it all; and so they came into the village with the people flocking about them. When they had taken up their place and the oxen had been unyoked, fed and watered, Sigrid took the headmen apart and told them the mind of Frey. They were disappointed. They said that they had many victims whom they were anxious to dispose of, and not much gold or silver at any rate, and none which they could spare. They hoped therefore that Frey would accept of the accustomed sacrifice, which was a great interest to the people.

Sigrid said, "I see how it is. You wish to glut yourself at Frey's charge, and to rid yourself of what you don't want, nor Frey neither. But Frey knows this better than you do, and is not to be deceived. You will find out very soon that I am right."

They said that he should have eggs, bread, cheese and milk, and went away very discontented.

The hour of the sacrifice was now at hand. Trestles and boards were laid before the wagon to hold up the altar and to make degrees of approach to it. Then when songs had been sung and prayers offered, Sigrid drew the curtains apart and revealed Frey to them.

They brought baskets of bread, cheeses in the round, milk and eggs. With a bearer of eggs Frey worked his first miracle.

A certain man came up with a basketful of eggs; there may have been two dozen of them. He knelt before Frey in his place in the row, waiting his turn. Gunnar, watching him, saw him fingering the eggs while he waited, turning them over, lifting one and weighing it in his hands. Presently he saw him take two from the basket and slip them in his pocket. When he put his hand to them again Frey brought his budded staff smartly down upon the back of it, and smashed it into his eggs. The man gave a yell, and fell down upon his face. All the rest shrank away in consternation, and there was great commotion down below. The man, sobbing and blubbering, drew out of his pocket the stolen eggs. Never had been such a miracle as this within the memory of man. The immediate effect of it was to bring out treasure to the shrine. Women brought their marriage crowns, men their rings and armlets. Fine cloth was offered and stuff embroidered with silk and gold. In the evening there was a feast, to which Frey himself came, and to their wonder and satisfaction ate and drank with the best. He said little; but he listened, and nodded his head when he was pleased, or knit his brows when he was angry. Next day he was drawn in his wagon to their closes and fields, and blessed them all very graciously. He gave them to understand through his wife that by banking up a torrent they could easily turn it and make a head of water enough to keep the pasture green all the summer through. Another thing he told them was how to make conduit-pipes of the split trunks of trees, hollowed out. All these things were wonderful, and carried the name and fame of Frey before him. The offerings poured into his treasury; he was rich, and had no more trouble with blood-sacrifices. By the end of the sowing season Frey was so rich that the wagon would scarcely hold him, his wife and the treasure. He talked to Sigrid about it, and said, "Sweetheart, I am thinking that we should do well to have a bodyguard before we get into our own country."

Sigrid, who was sitting on his knee at the time, said that no one would dare to attack Frey; but Gunnar nodded his head. "Fame is a strange thing," he told her; "it takes the guise that is most in men's fancy. Now for one man who has heard report of our miracles, there will be twenty who know that we have a full treasury. I am minded to have a guard before we cross the river and come into the parts where we are known best. And do you know what I am thinking is going to be the crown of Frey's achievement?"

She said, wonderingly, "No." Then Gunnar kissed her. And then she told him that she knew quite well what he meant, and that the truth was so. "Great is Frey," said Gunnar.

NEWS OF FREY REACHES NORWAY