Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1897-04-15

his face with absorbing interest. Then
he burst into violent fiji Of laughter
AT last-at last" he cried in fluent
English. Going now? Going, you
say? Never; never! You will never
go away any more. No, not without
something stolen, The dead have
summoned you here! Their white hony
fir gers have dragged you across the
leep Did you not hear their voices,
cold and hollow as the winter wind
calling, calling you, and saying, Come.
come, proud robber, from over the far
seas; come and gather the beautiful
rose of the northern forest? Yes, yes;
you have obeyed the dead-the dead
who feign sleep, but are ever wakeful;
you have come as thief in the
golden midnight and the thing You
seek is the life of Sigurd, fes-yes.
it is true The spirit cannot lie. You
must kill, you must steal! See how
the blood drips, drips, drop by drop,
from the heart of Sigurd And the
jewel you steal-ah, what jewell
YOU shall not find such another in Nor
way"
His excited voice sank by degrees
to plaintive and forlorn whisper, and
dropping his torch with a gesture of
DESPAIR on the ground, he looked at
it burning. with an air of mournful
and utter desolation. Profoundly
touched, as he Immediately understood
the condition of his companions wan
derng wits, ETington spoke to him
soothingly.
You mistake me-" he said in gentle
accents; Il would not steal anything
from you, nor have | come to kill you.
See" and he held out his hand, II
wouldn't hard you for the world.
didn't know this cave belonged to you.
Forgive me for having entered it.
am going to rejoin my friends. Good
bye"
The strange, half-crazy creature
touched his outstretched hand timidly
and with sort of appeal.
Goodbye, goodbye" he muttered.
That is what they all say,-even the
dead goodbye but they never go
never, never! You cannot be different
to the rest. And You do not wish to
hurt poor Sigurd?'
Certainly not if you are Sigurd,"
said Philip, half laughing; Il should be
very sorry to hurt you.
you are sure?" he persisted, with a
sort of obstinate eagerness. "You have
eyes which tell truths; but there are
other things which are tluer than
eyes--things in the air. in the grass,
in the waves, and they talk very
strangely Of you. | know you, of
course! | knew you ages ago--long
before | saw you dead on the field of
battle, and the black haired Valkyrie
galloped with you to Valhalla les;
l knew you Ions before that and you
knew me; for / was your king, and
you were my vassal, wild and rebellious
not the proud, rich Englishman you
are today"
Sigurd, as he called himself be aware
of either his wealth or nationality?
The dwarf observed his movement
of surprise with a cunning smile.
"Sigurd is wise-Sigurd is brave.
Who shall deceive him? He knows
you we'll; he will always know yod.
The old gods teach Sigurd all his wis
dom--the gods of the sea and the
wind-thee sleepy gods that lie in the
hearts Of the flowers the small spirits
that sit in shells and sing al day and
all night He paused, and his eyes
filled with a wstful look of attention,
He drew closer
Come" he said, earnestly, come,
you must listen to my music; perhaps
you can tell rue what it means.
He picked up his smouldering torch
and held it aloft again; then, reckoning
ErIington to follow him, he led the
way to a small grotto, cut deeply into
the wall of the cavern. Here there
were no shell patterns. Little green
ferns grew thic6ly out Of the stone
crevices. and minute runlet of water
trickled slowly down from above,
freshening the delicate frondage as 1t
fell. With quick. agile fingers he re-
moved a loose stone from this aper-
ture, and as he did so, low shudder-
ing wall resounded through the arches
"a melancholy moan that rose and
sank, and rose again in weird, sorrow
full minor echoes.
Hear her" murmured Sigurd plain
lively. "She is always complaining;
it is a pity she cannot rest! She is a
spirit, you know. ! have often asked
her what troubles her, but she will
not tell me: she only weeps"
His companion looked at him CON-
passionately. The sound that 80 affect
ed his disordered imagination was moth
ing but the wind blowing through the
narrow hole formed by the removal Of
the stone: but 1t was useless to explain
this simple fact to one in his condi-
ton.
TELL me" and Sir Philip spoke very
gently. lis this your homer"
The dwarf surveyed him almost
soornfullY MY home,' he echoed
ny home is eyerywhere-on the
mountains, In the forests, on the black