aws, we may obtain from the Pope absolution
for our nuptials--a day, perhaps, far off; but we are both young, and
love is strong and patient: we can wait."

"O Harold," exclaimed Edith, "we can wait!"

"Have I not told thee, son of Godwin," said the Vala, solemnly, "that
Edith's skein of life was inwoven with thine? Dost thou deem that my
charms have not explored the destiny of the last of my race? Know that
it is in the decrees of the fates that ye are to be united, never more to
be divided. Know that there shall come a day, though I can see not its
morrow, and it lies dim and afar, which shall be the most glorious of thy
life, and on which Edith and fame shall be thine,--the day of thy
nativity, on which hitherto all things have prospered with thee. In vain
against the stars preach the mone and the priest: what shall be, shall
be. Wherefore, take hope and joy, O Children of Time! And now, as I join
your hands, I betroth your souls."

Rapture unalloyed and unprophetic, born of love deep and pure, shone in
the eyes of Harold, as he clasped the hand of his promised bride. But an
involuntary and mysterious shudder passed over Edith's frame, and she
leant close, close, for support upon Harold's breast. And, as if by a
vision, there rose distinct in her memory a stern brow, a form of power
and terror--the brow and the form of him who but once again in her waking
life the Prophetess had told her she should behold. The vision passed
away in the warm clasp of those protecting arms; and looking up into
Harold's face, she there beheld the mighty and deep delight that
transfused itself at once into her own soul.

Then Hilda, placing one hand over their heads, and raising the other
towards heaven, all radiant with bursting stars, said in her deep and
thrilling tones:

"Attest the betrothal of these young hearts, O ye Powers that draw nature
to nature by spells which no galdra can trace, and have wrought in the
secrets of creation no mystery so perfect as love,--Attest it, thou
temple, thou altar!--attest it, O sun and O air! While the forms are
divided, may the souls cling together--sorrow with sorrow, and joy with
joy. And when, at length, bride and bridegroom are one,--O stars, may
the trouble with which ye are charged have exhausted its burthen; may no
danger molest, and no malice disturb, but, over the marriage-bed, shine
in peace, O ye stars!"

Up rose the moon. May's nightingale called its mate from the breath