"And I, Olvir!" murmured the girl, the rich blood leaping to her cheeks. "I give thanks for your--friendship. We were not fated to meet under the same roof with cold hearts."
"True, maiden. The past is past. I rejoice that you would now bury it, and accept friendship instead of bitterness."
A look too subtle even for the Northman's eyes flitted across the girl's face, and she tightened the handclasp which he was relaxing.
"It is then peace and--friendship," she said. "Come; the questions begin,--Deacon Alcuin fingers his scrolls. Yonder is a bench behind the others. You shall sit beside me and enlighten my dull wit."
"As you will," replied Olvir, and he turned at once to comply.
As the couple seated themselves on a bench in the rear of the main group of students, Alcuin selected one of the scrolls handed him by his pupils, and bowed to the king.
"Your Majesty, all is in readiness," he said.
At the word, Karl glanced about the hall. All present except Alcuin were now seated; but the king gazed up and down the benches until he caught sight of Olvir. Then he nodded and replied: "It is well; the lesson will now begin. Summon all your lore, my dear teacher. We have with us to-day a new-comer whose wits are keen as his sword."
"Such learning, sire, as I have gained from the Holy Fathers, I stand ready to impart. But who may say that he knows all of wisdom? Not even Solomon, son of David, could so claim."
"The fruit of knowledge,--the soul of learning."
"The inscribed knowledge of the ancients."
Olvir started up at the question, and saluted the king.
"I am over-new in this game to take active part, sire," he said. "I do not even know its rules."
"Another time, then, lad. You will soon learn our ways. We will now follow the lessons set for the day. Worad was to question Alcuin on dialectics."
As the young Frank rose to confront the master, Olvir sat down again beside Fastrada, and fell to musing, heedless alike of the learned disputants and of his fair benchmate.
In the midst of his revery, he was roused by Fastrada, who, under cover of Alcuin's voice, leaned over and whispered softly: "Look, my hero friend. Here comes one whom I doubt if you can name. Though she has not yet taken the veil, Gisela has all but made a nun of her."