"I must do something for joy," he panted;"and--except for your hair--you
look near enough like a handsome woman. Do you bend down and kiss me every
time Canute pricks him."
His head fell to the ground with a thump as the child of Frode leaped to her
feet.
"If you lay finger on me again," she whispered, "I will caress you with this!"
and for an instant a knife-blade glittered before the bulging eyes. Snorri
rolled back with alacrity and an oath; and after a moment Frode's daughter
dropped down again and hid her face in her hands. If the King should be slain
and she be left adrift in this foul sea! She might as well have screamed as
moaned, for all that they would have noticed.
About this time Canute's blade appeared to have become in earnest. Ceasing its
airy defence, it took on the aggressive. Instead of a flitting sunbeam, it
became a shaft from a burning glass; instead of one merry humming-bird, it
became a whole swarm of skimming, swooping, darting swallows, waging war on a
bewildered owl. Before the sudden fury of the onslaught, Edmund gave back a
pace. And either because his anger made him reckless or his great bulk was
against him, he presently was forced to draw back another step. Wildest cheers
went up from the North-men. It seemed as though they would wade in a body
across the river.
Only Eric of Norway stamped with uneasiness; and the overhanging brows of
Thorkel the Tall were as lowering hoods above his eyes.
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