This made the grown ones laugh; they called to her and caught at her, and the child grew more and more wanton and wild. Then it seemed that Olav had made a great resolution—he rose up from beside his father, straightened his new knife-belt, walked across the hall, and sat down by Ingunn’s side. And when she slid down and ran to another seat, the boy followed her, holding back a little, and seated himself again beside her. Thus the children played hither and thither among the benches, with laughter and cries from Ingunn—while Olav followed, steady and serious; but now and again he glanced at his father, and a faltering smile came over the boy’s mute and handsome face.

The children were nodding in a corner by the time Steinfinn and Audun came and led them out to the hearth in the midst of the hall. The guests formed a ring about them; they were far gone in drink. Steinfinn himself was unsteady on his legs as he took his daughter’s hand and laid it in Olav’s. Then Steinfinn and Audun clenched the bargain of their children’s betrothal with a handclasp, and Audun gave Olav a gold ring and helped him to set it on Ingunn’s little hand and hold up the child’s fingers so that all might see the massive ring dangling there. Ingebjörg Jonsdatter and the women laughed and cried by turns, for no fairer sight than this little bridal pair had any of them seen.

Then she handed her daughter a horn and bade her drink to her betrothed, and the children drank and spilled the liquor over their clothes. Steinfinn stood holding his friend round the neck; with tears in his voice he swore solemnly that Audun had no need to grieve for the child he left behind him; he would foster Olav himself and stand in his father’s stead till the boy was a man and could bring home his bride, said Steinfinn, and kissed Audun on both cheeks, while Ingebjörg took the children in her arms and promised to be a mother to Olav, for the sake of Cecilia Björns-datter, whom she had loved as her own sister.

Then they told Olav he must kiss his betrothed. And now the boy went forward right boldly, laid his arms about Ingunn’s neck, and kissed her as warmly as he could, while the witnesses laughed and drank the health of the affianced pair.

But it seemed as though Olav had now learned to like the sport—all at once he sprang at his young bride, took her round the neck again, and gave her three or four smacking kisses. Then all the company roared with laughter and called to him to keep on with it.

Whether it was the laughter that made her ashamed or a whim of the little maid—Ingunn tried to struggle out of the boy’s arms, and as he only clasped her the closer, she bit him in the cheek with all her might.

Olav stood staring for a moment, fairly amazed. Then he rubbed his cheek, where drops of blood were oozing out. He looked at his bloody fingers—and then made to fly at Ingunn and strike her. But his father lifted him in his arms and carried him away to the bed where they were to sleep. And then the affianced bride and bridegroom were undressed and put to bed, and soon they fell asleep and forgot the whole company.

Next day, when Steinfinn was sober, he would fain have been quit of his bargain. He dropped some hints that it was all done in jest—if they were to make any compact for their children’s future, they must first take counsel about it. But Audun, who had been kept from drinking by his sickness, opposed him in this. He bade the other remember that he had given his promise to a dying man, and that God would assuredly avenge it if he broke his word to a forlorn and fatherless child.

Steinfinn pondered. Audun Ingolfsson came of a good and ancient kindred, though it was now short of men and had little power. But Olav was an only child, and even if he could not look for much heritage beyond his ancestral seat of Hestviken, this was nevertheless a great estate. He himself might yet have many children in his marriage—Olav might well be a fit match for Ingunn, with her daughter’s portion after him. So Steinfinn sober took up the word he had spoken in his drink, promised to foster Olav and give him his daughter in marriage when the two children should come to years of discretion. And when he rode home from the Thing, he took Olav Audunsson north with him.

•   •   •

The same autumn there came tidings to Frettastein that Olav’s father was dead, a short time after his grandfather and the mad uncle. The messengers brought with them a part of the child’s heritage from his father and mother in chattels—clothing, arms, and a casket of jewels. His estate of Hestviken was left in the charge of an old kinsman of the boy—one they called Olav Half-priest.

Steinfinn took his foster-son’s goods in keeping, and he so far bestirred himself that twice he sent messages with folks who had errands in Oslo, to appoint a meeting with Olav Half-priest. But nothing came of it at that time, and afterwards Steinfinn took no further step. It was the way with Steinfinn that he was no very active man even when his own affairs were at stake. Both he and Ingebjörg were kind to Olav, and he was treated as a child of theirs, till the trouble came upon them. And after that their foster-son was haply no more neglected than their own offspring.

In a way Olav had been quick to feel at home at Frettastein. He liked Steinfinn and Ingebjörg well enough, but he was a quiet-mannered, rather reticent child, so he was always something of a stranger to them.