f the famous northern heroes of the olden time; and perhaps
yet something more than they--namely, a good Christian. "I almost
think," murmured she from beneath her covering, "that you are that very
Froda whom men call the Good, and the friend of the Skalds, and of whose
generosity and mildness such wonderful stories are told. If it be so,
there may be help for me. You need only give up to me the half of your
fields and meadows, and I should be in a condition to live in some
measure such a life as befits the descendant of the mighty Rolf." Then
Froda looked thoughtfully on the ground; partly because she had asked
for so very much; partly, also, because he was considering whether she
could really be descended from the powerful Rolf. But the veiled form
said, after a pause, "I must have been mistaken, and you are not indeed
that renowned, gentle-hearted Froda: for how could he have doubted so
long about such a trifle? But I will try the utmost means. See now! for
the sake of the fair Aslauga, of whom you have both read and sang--for
the sake of the honoured daughter of Sigurd, grant my request!" Then
Froda started up eagerly, and cried, "Let it be as you have said!" and
gave her his knightly hand to confirm his words. But he could not grasp
the hand of the peasant-woman, although her dark form remained close
before him. A secret shudder began to run through his limbs, whilst
suddenly a light seemed to shine forth from the apparition--a golden
light--in which she became wholly wrapped; so that he felt as though
Aslauga stood before him in the flowing veil of her golden hair, and
smiling graciously on him. Transported and dazzled, he sank on his
knees. When he rose up once more he only saw a cloudy mist of autumn
spreading over the meadow, fringed at its edges with lingering evening
lights, and then vanishing far over the waves. The knight scarcely knew
what had happened to him. He returned to his chamber buried in thought,
and sometimes feeling sure that he had beheld Aslauga, sometimes, again,
that some goblin had risen before him with deceitful tricks, mocking in
spiteful wise the service which he had vowed to his dead mistress.
But henceforth, wherever he roved, over valley or forest or heath, or
whether he sailed upon the waves of the sea, the like appearances met
him. Once he found a lute lying in a wood, and drove a wolf away from
it, and when sounds burst from the lute without its being touched a fair
child rose up fro