"
A low, choked sob broke from Valdemar's broad breast--he covered his
face with his hands.
"Of what avail?" he murmured brokenly. "When my lord departs, I am alone
and friendless!"
The _bonde_ regarded him with kindly pity.
"Tears from the stout heart?" he inquired with a sort of grave wonder.
"Weep for life, Valdemar--not for death! Alone and friendless? Not while
the gods are in heaven! Cheer thee--thou art strong and in vigorous
pride of manhood--why should not bright days come for thee--" He broke
off with a gasp--a sudden access of pain convulsed him and rendered his
breathing difficult. By sheer force of will he mastered the cruel agony,
though great drops of sweat stood on his brow when he at last found
voice to continue--
"I thought all suffering was past," he said with a heroic smile. "This
foolish flesh and blood of mine dies hard! But, as I was saying to thee,
Valdemar--the farm is thine, and all it holds--save some few trifles I
have set down to be given to my child.
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