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The Waif Woman
by
“My dear,” says he, “my honour–this is against my honour.”
But she took his arm under hers, and caressed his hand, and kissed his knuckles, and led him down the bay. “Bubble-bubble-bubble!” says she, imitating him like a baby, though she was none so young. “Bubble-bubble, and a silly old man! We must bury the troll wife, and here is trouble enough, and a vengeance! Horses will sweat for it before she comes to Skalaholt; ’tis my belief she was a man in a woman’s habit. And so now, have done, good man, and let us get her waked and buried, which is more than she deserves, or her old duds are like to pay for. And when that is ended, we can consult upon the rest.”
So Finnward was but too well pleased to put it off.
The next day they set forth early for Skalaholt across the heaths. It was heavy weather, and grey overhead; the horses sweated and neighed, and the men went silent, for it was nowhere in their minds that the dead wife was canny. Only Aud talked by the way, like a silly sea-gull piping on a cliff, and the rest held their peace. The sun went down before they were across Whitewater; and the black night fell on them this side of Netherness. At Netherness they beat upon the door. The goodman was not abed nor any of his folk, but sat in the hall talking; and to them Finnward made clear his business.
“I will never deny you a roof,” said the goodman of Netherness. “But I have no food ready, and if you cannot be doing without meat, you must e’en fare farther.”
They laid the body in a shed, made fast their horses, and came into the house, and the door was closed again. So there they sat about the lights, and there was little said, for they were none so well pleased with their reception. Presently, in the place where the food was kept, began a clattering of dishes; and it fell to a bondman of the house to go and see what made the clatter. He was no sooner gone than he was back again; and told it was a big, buxom woman, high in flesh and naked as she was born, setting meats upon a dresser. Finnward grew pale as the dawn; he got to his feet, and the rest rose with him, and all the party of the funeral came to the buttery-door. And the dead Thorgunna took no heed of their coming, but went on setting forth meats, and seemed to talk with herself as she did so; and she was naked to the buff.
Great fear fell upon them; the marrow of their back grew cold. Not one word they spoke, neither good nor bad; but back into the hall, and down upon their bended knees, and to their prayers.
“Now, in the name of God, what ails you?” cried the goodman of Netherness.
And when they had told him, shame fell upon him for his churlishness.
“The dead wife reproves me,” said the honest man.
And he blessed himself and his house, and caused spread the tables, and they all ate of the meats that the dead wife laid out.
This was the first walking of Thorgunna, and it is thought by good judges it would have been the last as well, if men had been more wise.
The next day they came to Skalaholt, and there was the body buried, and the next after they set out for home. Finnward’s heart was heavy, and his mind divided. He feared the dead wife and the living; he feared dishonour and he feared dispeace; and his will was like a sea-gull in the wind. Now he cleared his throat and made as if to speak; and at that Aud cocked her eye and looked at the goodman mocking, and his voice died unborn. At the last, shame gave him courage.