It was now broad daylight. The sun was shining radiantly on the mountain and the lake. Light clouds which hitherto had hung like a veil thrown over a long spear about the peak of Sentis floated swiftly down into the valley. During the night a light snow had fallen upon Sentis and TÖdi and the other topmost peaks in the chain, and lay there glittering like sparkling crystal. It was very peaceful. The war--thanks to Bissula--had not brought its destruction here. Hoar frost flashed on every blade of grass.

The child of the forest, so long shut out from lake, meadow, and field, rejoiced in the freedom of nature. She inhaled long draughts of the pure air; nay, in spite of her impatience, she even turned once and, standing still, gazed out over the shining azure lake and the peaks of the mountains radiant in white and gold.

"I do not know how to call you all by name, ye beloved gods, who have guided everything so happily for me, aided me upon land and water, and are now shining in the sunlight and the glory of the mountains! And Adalo lives: that is the best, the very best of all that ye have done. Ye gods, I do not know you all, but I thank every one of you!"

She stretched her arms toward the sun. Then, that the goddess of the lake and Donar, the King of the mountains, whose throne was on Sentis, might not be angry, she saluted the water and the mountains, with both hands, raising and lowering them as one waves a greeting to a friend recognized at a distance. Again she ran impatiently up the hill side. Most of the singing birds had left the lake long before; but one little robin which always remained there all winter recognized the friendly being who often scattered food for it on the snow, and, greeting her with a light chirping, flew a few paces in front of her until she reached the door of the hall.

* * * * *

Within the great central room Adalo lay on the floor upon a pile of soft skins, his head toward the steps of the master's lofty seat, his feet toward the entrance. His head rested in the lap of gray-haired Waldrun; his eyes were closed. At his left lay Zercho, but placed in the opposite direction, with his head toward the door and a huge goblet of mead beside him. At his right stood Sippilo, gazing down anxiously at his brother's face. Beside the wounded man was Bruna, the she-bear, growling softly as she licked his hand. She was the first to move, raising her head as light footsteps were heard on the sand outside the door.

The blind woman said, in a low tone that the wounded man might not hear: "That is Bissula's tread."

The girl appeared in the doorway. Sippilo started, Zercho raised his head, but she motioned to them all to keep silence, and noiselessly advancing with bare feet to Adalo's couch, she laid her little hand on his head.

"Bissula?" asked the Adeling.

She bent over him, her red locks falling on his pale face.

"Is it you, little one? No, no! The fairest of the Valkyrias has come to bear me upward--do you see her swan wings?--up to Valhalla's shining heights." Bissula's white robe was floating around her shoulders.

The girl cast a glance of agonized terror at Waldrun.

"Be comforted," said the old dame firmly, "he will live. And everything will be as I have said."

"You must stay with us always now," cried Sippilo, seizing her garments as if to hold her by force.

Bruna, growling joyfully, had risen and put one paw on her knee, looking up at her with intelligent eyes. Bissula gratefully patted the animal's head and held out her hand to Zercho, who kissed it humbly. Laughing, yet with tears in his eyes, he cried: "O little sprite, little red sprite!"

But now the girl bent down again, exclaiming:

"No, Adalo, it is no Valkyria, it is Bissula, little red Bissula, who is so wicked, so wicked! Adalo,--hush, don't speak,--I know all. I know, too, what you wanted to do for me, what you offered. That was wrong in you. Hush, hush! It was certainly what you--you only are of all the people in the world. Hush, dearest--don't move. Yes, yes, I will stay here, your nurse, your maid-servant, as long as you need me. Ah! I beg you so earnestly--I entreat you--take me! No, no! Do not move your arm! Not yet to your breast! But I will do everything all my life--will be as blindly obedient as you desire: only let me stay with you--your own!"

Her little head sank on his breast. The wounded man raised himself, kissed her flowing red hair, the red lips, now smiling again, and the eyes still wet with tears, exclaiming rapturously:

"O Bissula--you dear one--you wicked elf--my beloved bride!"

FOOTNOTES:

Footnote 1: The German name for Lake Constance.

THE END.