"Courage, brothers, and forward yet a little! The moon will light
us presently, and the path is plain. Well know I that the journey
is weary; and my own heart wearies also for the home in England,
where those I love are keeping feast this Christmas eve. But we
have work to do before we feast to-night. For this is the
Yuletide, and the heathen people of the forest have gathered at
the thunder-oak of Geismar to worship their god, Thor. Strange
things will be seen there, and deeds which make the soul black.
But we are sent to lighten their darkness; and we will teach our
kinsmen to keep a Christmas with us such as the woodland has never
known. Forward, then, and let us stiffen up our feeble knees!"
A murmur of assent came from the men. Even the horses seemed to
take fresh heart. They flattened their backs to draw the heavy
loads, and blew the frost from their nostrils as they pushed
ahead.
The night grew broader and less oppressive. A gate of brightness
was opened secretly somewhere in the sky; higher and higher
swelled the clear moon-flood, until it poured over the eastern
wall of forest into the road.
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