The awkwardness of the pause seemed to afford Canute a kind of mischievous
amusement, for all the courtesy in which he veiled it. His voice was almost
too cheerful as he addressed the Etheling. "Now as always it can be told about
my men that they stretch out their hands to greet strangers," he said, "but I
ask you not to judge all Danish hospitality from this reception, Lord of
Ivarsdale. Since Frode's daughter has told me who you are, I take it for
granted that they were wrong, and that you came here with no worse intention
than to obey her invitation."
His glance sharpened a little as he pronounced those last words, and the
girl's hands clasped each other more tightly as she perceived the snare in the
phrase. If the Etheling should answer unheedingly or obscurely, so that it
should not be made quite clear to the King--
But it appeared that the Etheling was equally anxious that Canute should not
believe him the lover of Frode's daughter. His reply was distinct to
bluntness: "Part of your guess is as wrong as part of it is right, King of the
Danes. Certainly I came here with no thought of evil toward you, but neither
had I any thought soever of the Lady Randalin, of whose existence I was
ignorant. I answered the call of Fridtjof Frodesson, to whom I owe and I pay
all the service which lies in my power,--as it is likely you know.
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