“Better to have two,” said Guest the One-eyed. “More especially if they are as blue and as good as yours.” And he looked at her with a kindly smile.
Bagga was still embarrassed; she glanced anxiously at the visitor, and asked: “You are not angry with me?”
He patted her arm. “How could I be? After you have given me leave to call you Bagga?”
“When you go away from here, I will go with you all the way to the next place. I am strong, and I can carry your sack for you.”
“That’s kind of you. And I shall not be angry with you, not even if you fasten a stick to one leg just to see what it feels like to be lame!”
Bagga’s checks were burning now; she was nearly crying.
“I—I did just now,” she confessed. “And it was much worse than—the other. But I’ll never do it again.”
Guest the One-eyed burst out laughing. Even the girl’s mother could not help joining in. And there was not much of anger in the rebuke she gave her daughter.
Night spread its broad, dark wings over the land.
Under the shadow of night the world is changed from what it was while day still reigned. Fear, that the daylight holds in check, is then abroad, and the unseen seems nearer than before. All things are changed, save Love that is unalterable; Love that is constant whether in light or dark.
Guest the One-eyed had long since laid his tired limbs to rest in the hay, the widow’s soul far, far away in the land of dreams, when the outer door of the house opened slowly; only a crack at first, through which the dog silently made its way, followed then by the girl, who stepped with careful, noiseless tread.
Bagga closed the door behind her without a sound, patted the dog, and whispered to it to be silent. And the intelligent beast seemed to understand that this was a business that must be kept secret between it and its mistress.
Off went the pair, in the direction of the stream, the dog hard at Bagga’s heels, and evidently interested in the night’s adventure.
As they neared the flock of sheep, where they lay huddled together for the night, she made the dog lie down, while she called softly, as was her wont, for Ørlygur’s lamb. There was a slight commotion in the flock, and the black-headed lamb came trotting up.
Offering some bread she had brought with her, Bagga gradually enticed it away from the rest. She moved very slowly, to avoid alarming the others, over towards the natural bridge across the stream.