"Well, yes," admitted George, "I think I would! But it's a herculean task sometimes. If you had ever been to London, Miss Güldmar, you would understand how difficult it is to make people even smile,--and when they do, the smile is not a very natural one."
"Why?" she exclaimed. "Are they all so miserable?"
"They pretend to be, if they're not," said Lorimer; "it is the fashion there to find fault with everything and everybody."
"That is so," said Güldmar thoughtfully. "I visited London once and thought I was in hell. Nothing but rows of hard, hideously built houses, long streets, and dirty alleys, and the people had weary faces all, as though Nature had refused to bless them. A pitiful city,--doubly pitiful to the eyes of a man like myself, whose life has been passed among fjords and mountains such as these. Well, now, as neither of you are Lutherans,--in fact, as neither of you seem to know what you are," and he laughed, "I can be frank, and speak out as to my own belief. I am proud to say I have never deserted the faith of my fathers, the faith that makes a man's soul strong and fearless, and defiant of evil,--the faith that is supposed to be crushed out among us, but that is still alive and rooted in the hearts of many who can trace back their lineage to the ancient Vikings as I can,--yes!--rooted firm and fast,--and however much some of the more timorous feign to conceal it, in the tacit acceptance of another creed, there are those who can never shake it off, and who never desire to forsake it. I am one of these few. Shame must fall on the man who willfully deserts the faith of his warrior-ancestry! Sacred to me for ever be the names of Odin and Thor!"
He raised his hand aloft with a proud gesture, and his eyes flashed. Errington was interested, but not surprised: the old bonde's declaration of his creed seemed eminently fitted to his character. Lorimer's face brightened,--here was a novelty--a man, who in all the conflicting storms of modern opinion, sturdily clung to the traditions of his forefathers.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed eagerly, "I think the worship of Odin would suit me perfectly! It's a rousing, fighting sort of religion,--I'm positive it would make a man of me. Will you initiate me into the mysteries, Mr. Güldmar? There's a fellow in London who writes poetry on Indian subjects, and who, it is said, thinks Buddhism might satisfy his pious yearnings,--but I think Odin would be a personage to command more respect than Buddha,--at any rate, I should like to try him. Will you give me a chance?"