l, so pure, so tender, so soulful, that enthusiastic admiration
made the spectator forget the inclination to tease her.

True, at this moment the elf looked by no means angelic, but thoroughly
evil, as, darting only one swift glance of furious rage at the tall
young noble, she seized the old woman violently by the shoulder and in
a low voice stifled by suppressed fury--cried: "Grandmother!--Away!--To
the marshes! Zercho the bondman must guide us. Away!"

"Gently, child, gently! Did not you hear? It will be safer on the
mountain."

"Safer perhaps for us; but not for those whom we--no, whom _I_ should
then be near. Go," she cried furiously to the youth, "save yourself, I
advise you, from the red-hair. 'False and spitting her ire like the fox
and the fire.' Was that the way it ran, you witty fellow? As soon as
the daughter of our neighbor Ero, giggling with spiteful mirth, told me
your last jibe against me, I climbed the hay-ladder to the ridge-pole
of our house and painted our white star up there red: painted it very
thick and bright, so that you could see it from the edge of the forest
and keep far away from the evil color. Very far--do you hear?"

CHAPTER VI.

Adalo had now recovered from his astonishment.

"I knew," he said, smiling, "that the elves of light dwell above our
heads; but I was not aware that they had nests among the boughs of the
oaks."

"And why not? If you reproach me with being an elf of light."

"It is no reproach, I should think. What says the elf-song? 'Fairest
fair are not the ases, but the elves.'"

"'Sharp is the bite of the squirrel, but Bissula's is sharper still.'
You yourself classed me with the biting animals, so do not wonder that
I fled to my red, snarling, biting sisters when I heard in the distance
the haughty footfall of the hated Adalo. I detected your approach even
sooner than the long-practised ear of my blind grandmother. Hate is
quick to hear."

"Do you hate me?" asked the youth. His voice sounded low and sad.

"Forgive her, Adalo! She is but a child."

"No, grandmother, I am a child no longer; I shall see my eighteenth
winter when the next snow falls. The child tried to defend herself
against superior strength. She was too weak; but now something within
me struggles against your arrogance--I know not what it is; it glows
here in my breast, and believe me, this thing within is stronger than
my hands once were: you cannot conquer."