Until the last few days there had been little in her life to rouse passions.

Her forefathers had been Vikings, savage chieftains who bore no cross and brooked no hindrance to their will.

Her father had inherited that temper; and at times, like antelope fleeing before fire on the slope, his people fled from his red rages.

Jane Withersteen realized that the spirit of wrath and war had lain dormant in her.

She shrank from black depths hitherto unsuspected.