At last she stood face to face with the man she loved, face to face, and
alone. And still he neither spoke to her nor looked at her! So strange and
terrible was it all that it gave her resolution to speak and end it. Her
Viking blood could not color her cheeks, but her Viking courage found her a
whisper in which to offer her plea for the "sun-browned boy-bred wench."
"Lord, it is difficult to know whether or not to expect your friendship,
for--for I have heard what your mind feels toward most matters--and you see
now what I have done--"
Did he wince again? She paused in astonishment. It could not be that he was
surprised,--was it displeasure? Her words came a little more swiftly, a tremor
of passionate pleading thrilling through them.
"You need not think that I did it willingly, lord. Very roughly has fortune
handled me. The reason I first came into camp-life was that I trusted someone
too much, knowing no more of the world than my father's house. And after the
bonds were laid on me, it was not easy to rule matters. The helplessness of a
woman is before the eyes of all people--"
His words broke through hers: "No more, I beseech you!" His voice was broken
and unsteady as she had never known it. "Who am I that I should blame you? Do
not think me so--so despisable! If unknowingly I have done you any wrong when
I owe you--" He paused and she guessed that it had swept over him afresh how
much he did owe her.
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