Biorn, cuddled up on a bench in his little bear-skin, was drawn like a moth to that stream of light.

With his heart beating fast he would creep to it and stand for a moment with his small body bathed in the radiance.
The game was not to come back at once, but to foray into the farther darkness before returning to the sanctuary of bed.

That took all the fortitude in Biorn's heart, and not till the thing was dared and done could he go happily to sleep.
One night Leif the Outborn watched him at his game.

Sometimes the man was permitted to sleep there when he had been making sport for the housecarles.
"Behold an image of life!" he had said in his queer outland speech.

"We pass from darkness to darkness with but an instant of light between.