The Outlaws | Page 8

God will
find him no matter where he may hide. But I could not speak to him; I

could not find the words because of my love for him. Do not ask that I
shall speak to him. Do not ask that the ocean shall rise to the height of
the mountains."
ÊÊ He was silent again, and the deep voice of the storm, which he
knew for God's voice, was silent also. There was a sudden pause in the
wind, a burst of sunshine, a sound as of oars, and the gentle rustling of
stiff reeds. These soft tones brought up the memory of Unn.
ÊÊ Then the storm began again, and he heard steps behind him, and a
breathless panting. He did not dare to turn this time, for he knew that it
was the white monk. He came from the banquet in Berg's great hall
covered with blood, and with an open ax cut in his forehead. And he
whispered: "Betray him. Give him up, that you may save his soul."
ÊÊ Tord began to run. All this terror grew and grew in him, and he
tried to flee from it. But as he ran he heard behind him the deep, mighty
voice, which he knew was the voice of God. It was God himself
pursuing him, demanding that he should give up the murderer. Berg's
crime seemed more horrible to him than ever it had seemed before. A
weaponless man had been murdered, a servant of God cut down by the
steel. And the murderer still dared to live. He dared to enjoy the light of
the sun and the fruits of the earth. Tord halted, clinched his fists, and
shrieked a threat. Then, like a madman, he ran from the forest, the
realm of terror, down into the valley.
* * *
ÊÊ When Tord entered the cave the outlaw sat upon the bench of stone,
sewing. The fire gave but a pale light, and the work did not seem to
progress satisfactorily. The boy's heart swelled in pity. This superb
Giant seemed all at once so poor and so unhappy.
ÊÊ "What is the matter?" asked Berg. "Are you ill? Have you been
afraid?"
ÊÊ Then for the first time Tord spoke of his fear. "It was so strange in
the forest. I heard the voices of spirits and I saw ghosts. I saw white

monks."
ÊÊ "Boy!"
ÊÊ "They sang to me all the way up the slope to the hilltop. I ran from
them, but they ran after me, singing. Can I not lay the spirits? What
have I to do with them? There are others to whom their appearance is
more necessary."
ÊÊ "Are you crazy to-night, Tord?"
ÊÊ Tord spoke without knowing what words he was using. His shyness
had left him all at once, speech seemed to flow from his lips. "They
were white monks, as pale as corpses. And their clothes are spotted
with blood. They draw their hoods down over their foreheads, but I can
see the wound shining there. The great, yawning, red wound from the
ax."
ÊÊ "Tord," said the giant, pale and deeply grave, "the Saints alone
know why you see wounds of ax thrusts. I slew the monk with a knife."
ÊÊ Tord stood before Berg trembling and wringing his bands. "They
demand you of me. They would compel me to betray you."
ÊÊ "Who? The monks?"
ÊÊ "Yes, yes, the monks. They show me visions. They show me Unn.
They show me the open, sunny ocean. They show me the camps of the
fishermen, where there is dancing and merriment. I close my eyes, and
yet I can see it all. 'Leave me,' I say to them. 'My friend has committed
a murder, but he is not bad. Leave me alone, and I will talk to him, that
he may repent and atone. He will see the wrong he has done, and he
will make a pilgrimage to the Holy Grave.'"
ÊÊ "And what do the monks answer?" asked Berg. "They do not want
to pardon me. They want to torture me and to burn me at the stake."
ÊÊ "'Shall I betray my best friend?' I ask them. He is all that I have in

the world. He saved me from the bear when its claws were already at
my throat. We have suffered hunger and cold together. He covered me
with his own garments while I was ill. I have brought him wood and
water, I have watched over his sleep and led his enemies off the trail.
Why should they think me a man who betrays his friend? My friend
will go to the priest himself, and will confess to him, and then together
we will seek absolution."
ÊÊ Berg listened gravely,