bosom of earth
know, when the refreshing dew and the quickening sunbeams fall upon
it, that it hath within itself the power of growth and blossoming? As
the song of the mother penetrates into the heart of the child, and it
babbles the words after her, without understanding their import, until
they afterwards engender thought, and come forward in due time clearer
and more clearly, so here also did the Word work, that is powerful to
create.

They rode forth from the dense forest, across the heath, and then
again through pathless roads; and towards evening they encountered a
band of robbers.

[Illustration: HELGA AND THE PRIEST ATTACKED BY ROBBERS.]

"Where hast thou stolen that beauteous maiden?" cried the robbers; and
they seized the horse's bridle, and dragged the two riders from its
back. The priest had no weapon save the knife he had taken from
Helga; and with this he tried to defend himself. One of the robbers
lifted his axe to slay him, but the young priest sprang aside and
eluded the blow, which struck deep into the horse's neck, so that the
blood spurted forth, and the creature sank down on the ground. Then
Helga seemed suddenly to wake from her long reverie, and threw
herself hastily upon the gasping animal. The priest stood before her
to protect and defend her, but one of the robbers swung his iron
hammer over the Christian's head, and brought it down with such a
crash that blood and brains were scattered around, and the priest sank
to the earth, dead.

Then the robber's seized beautiful Helga by her white arms and her
slender waist; but the sun went down, and its last ray disappeared at
that moment, and she was changed into the form of a frog. A
white-green mouth spread over half her face, her arms became thin and
slimy, and broad hands with webbed fingers spread out upon them like
fans. Then the robbers were seized with terror, and let her go. She
stood, a hideous monster, among them; and as it is the nature of the
frog to do, she hopped up high, and disappeared in the thicket. Then
the robbers saw that this must be a bad prank of the spirit Loke, or
the evil power of magic, and in great affright they hurried away from
the spot.

The full moon was already rising. Presently it shone with splendid
radiance over the earth, and poor Helga crept forth from the thicket
in the wretched frog's shape. She stood still beside the corpse of the
priest and the carcase of the slain horse. She looked at them with
eye