The Were-Wolf | Page 7

but that, and he
with Tyr would be free to kill or be killed.
Then he returned to ask fresh questions.
"How long has the stranger been here?"
"She came about half-an-hour before you."
"Who opened the door to her?"

"Sweyn: no one else dared."
The tone of the answer was mysterious.
"Why?" queried Christian. "Has anything strange happened? Tell me."
For answer he was told in a low undertone of the summons at the door
thrice repeated without human agency; and of Tyr's ominous howls;
and of Sweyn's fruitless watch outside.
Christian turned towards his brother in a torment of impatience for a
word apart. The board was spread, and Sweyn was leading White Fell
to the guest's place. This was more awful: she would break bread with
them under the roof-tree!
He started forward, and touching Sweyn's arm, whispered an urgent
entreaty. Sweyn stared, and shook his head in angry impatience.
Thereupon Christian would take no morsel of food.
His opportunity came at last. White Fell questioned of the landmarks of
the country, and of one Cairn Hill, which was an appointed
meeting-place at which she was due that night. The house-mistress and
Sweyn both exclaimed.
"It is three long miles away," said Sweyn; "with no place for shelter but
a wretched hut. Stay with us this night, and I will show you the way
to-morrow."
White Fell seemed to hesitate. "Three miles," she said; "then I should
be able to see or hear a signal."
"I will look out," said Sweyn; "then, if there be no signal, you must not
leave us."
He went to the door. Christian rose silently, and followed him out.
"Sweyn, do you know what she is?"

Sweyn, surprised at the vehement grasp, and low hoarse voice, made
answer:
"She? Who? White Fell?"
"Yes."
"She is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen."
"She is a Were-Wolf."
Sweyn burst out laughing. "Are you mad?" he asked.
"No; here, see for yourself."
Christian drew him out of the porch, pointing to the snow where the
footmarks had been. Had been, for now they were not. Snow was
falling fast, and every dint was blotted out.
"Well?" asked Sweyn.
"Had you come when I signed to you, you would have seen for
yourself."
"Seen what?"
"The footprints of a wolf leading up to the door; none leading away."
It was impossible not to be startled by the tone alone, though it was
hardly above a whisper. Sweyn eyed his brother anxiously, but in the
darkness could make nothing of his face. Then he laid his hands kindly
and re-assuringly on Christian's shoulders and felt how he was
quivering with excitement and horror.
"One sees strange things," he said, "when the cold has got into the brain
behind the eyes; you came in cold and worn out."
"No," interrupted Christian. "I saw the track first on the brow of the
slope, and followed it down right here to the door. This is no delusion."

Sweyn in his heart felt positive that it was. Christian was given to
day-dreams and strange fancies, though never had he been possessed
with so mad a notion before.
"Don't you believe me?" said Christian desperately. "You must. I swear
it is sane truth. Are you blind? Why, even Tyr knows."
"You will be clearer headed to-morrow after a night's rest. Then come
too, if you will, with White Fell, to the Hill Cairn; and if you have
doubts still, watch and follow, and see what footprints she leaves."
Galled by Sweyn's evident contempt Christian turned abruptly to the
door. Sweyn caught him back.
"What now, Christian? What are you going to do?"
"You do not believe me; my mother shall."
Sweyn's grasp tightened. "You shall not tell her," he said
authoritatively.
Customarily Christian was so docile to his brother's mastery that it was
now a surprising thing when he wrenched himself free vigorously, and
said as determinedly as Sweyn, "She shall know!" but Sweyn was
nearer the door and would not let him pass.
"There has been scare enough for one night already. If this notion of
yours will keep, broach it to-morrow." Christian would not yield.
"Women are so easily scared," pursued Sweyn, "and are ready to
believe any folly without shadow of proof. Be a man, Christian, and
fight this notion of a Were-Wolf by yourself."
"If you would believe me," began Christian.
"I believe you to be a fool," said Sweyn, losing patience. "Another,
who was not your brother, might believe you to be a knave, and guess
that you had transformed White Fell into a Were-Wolf because she
smiled more readily on me than on you."

The jest was not without foundation, for the grace of White Fell's bright
looks had been bestowed on him, on Christian never a whit.