have no sword," he thought; "hence I cannot defend myself against
Hunding. If only I could find, somewhere in the world, that enchanted
sword of which my father told me!" he cried, aloud in his despair.
Suddenly, the logs in the fire fell apart and the flame flared
high--it was Loge doing the bidding of Wotan, who, from Walhall, was
watching the movements of the Universe--and in the blaze the sword
hilt could be seen shining upon the tree. The gleam caught Siegmund's
eye, but he did not know what he saw.

"What is that so bright and shining?" he said to himself. "Ah, it must
be the memory of dear Sieglinde's brilliant eyes, which rested so
often upon that spot before she left the room. It is because I love
her and think of her that I fancy I see a jewel shining in the dark."
Musing thus he became sadder than before. Again Loge flamed up high,
and again Siegmund saw the gleam of the sword, but still he did not
know what he saw, so the lonely wolf-man was again left in darkness.
Then the chamber door softly opened and Sieglinde stole into the room.
She had left Hunding sleeping.

"Guest," she whispered. "Art thou sleeping?" Siegmund started up
joyfully.

"It is Sieglinde?" he whispered back.

"Listen! Make no sound. Hunding lies sleeping, overcome by the heavy
drink that I have given him. Now, in the night, fly and save thy life.
I have come to show thee a weapon. Oh, if thou couldst make it thine!
Many have tried, but all have failed. It is only the strongest in all
the world who can draw it from its strange sheath." Siegmund's glance
wandered to where she pointed, and rested upon the sword hilt which
the flame had shown him.

"I was given by my kinsmen to the cruel Hunding," she continued; "and
while I sat sad and sorrowful on my wedding night, and my kinsmen
gathered around rejoicing, there entered an old man, clad all in gray,
his hat pulled low over his face, and one eye hidden; but the other
eye flashed fear to all men's souls but mine. While others trembled
with fear, I trembled with hope; because on me his eye rested
lovingly. He carried a sword in his hand, and with a mighty stroke,
buried it deep in the ash tree.

"'Only he who has a giant's strength can draw that sword,' he cried.
After that, guests came and went, came and went, tried and tried; but
none could draw the sword. So there it cleaves until this day. Ah! if
thou couldst draw it out and save thy life! He who draws that sword
shall also delive