And therefore it is that none of his ancestors,
valiant as they have been, have dared to put this harness on their backs."
And so ended a story, which Torfrida believed utterly, and Hereward
likewise.
"And now, Hereward mine, dare you wear that magic armor, and face old
Torfrid's curse?"
"What dare I not?"
"Think. If you lose it, in you your race must end."
"Let it end. I accept the curse."
And he put the armor on.
But he trembled as he did it. Atheism and superstition go too often hand
in hand; and godless as he was, sceptical of Providence itself, and much
more of the help of saint or angel, still the curse of the old warrior,
like the malice of a witch or a demon, was to him a thing possible,
probable, and formidable.
She looked at him in pride and exultation.
"It is yours,--the invulnerable harness! Wear it in the forefront of the
battle! And if weapon wound you through it, may I, as punishment for my
lie, suffer the same upon my tender body,--a wound for every wound of
yours, my knight!" [Footnote: "Volo enim in meo tale quid nunc perpeti
corpore semel, quicquid eas ferrei vel e metallo excederet."]
And after that they sat side by side, and talked of love with all honor
and honesty, never heeding the old hag, who crooned to herself in her
barbarian tongue,--
"Quick thaw, long frost,
Quick joy, long pain,
Soon found, soon lost,
You will take your gift again.
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