Where is this sack he
spoke of?"
It lay at his feet. A large sack it was, and full of somewhat heavy and
warm that seemed to move a little when I put my hand on it. Still less
did I like the business as I felt that.
"More also!" quoth my father, as if thinking of the king's last words.
"If that does not mean a halter for my neck, I am mistaken. What have we
here, son, do you think?"
"Somewhat that should not be here, certainly," I answered. "There would
not be so much talk about drowning a dog, as one might think this to be."
"Unless it were his wife's," answered my father, with a laugh.
Then he stooped, and I helped him to get the sack on his shoulders. It
was heavy, but not very---not so heavy as a young calf in a sack would
be; and he carried it easily, taking my spear to help him.
"The thrall is even going to take this to the house of Grim the
merchant, whom the king will not know again, though he may see in the
dark," said he; "then we shall know how we stand."
We met no one on our way back, for the town had gone to sleep, until the
watchman passed the time of night with us, thinking no doubt that we had
fish or goods in the burden. And when we came home a sleepy thrall
opened to us, for all were at rest save him. And he too went his way to
the shed where his place was when he had stirred the fire to a blaze and
lit a torch that we might see to eat the supper that was left for us.
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