It was my mother you left there in the snow.
Some day I will kill him." "No, no, my boy," said the father, clasping him in his arms.

"You are your father's son, your mother's son," he cried.

"You have the heart, the spirit, but this oath I shall not lay upon you.

No, by my hand he shall die, or let him go." He stood for some moments silent, his head leaning forward upon his breast.

"No," he said again, "Simon is right.