. At length he turned his
eyes northward to the misty land of Joetunheim. There the shades of
evening had already fallen; but from his high place Frey could still see
distinct shapes moving about through the gloom. Strange and monstrous
shapes they were, and Frey stood a little higher, on tiptoe, that he
might look further after them. In this position he could just descry a
tall house standing on a hill in the very middle of Joetunheim. While he
looked at it a maiden came and lifted up her arms to undo the latch of
the door. It was dusk in Joetunheim; but when this maiden lifted up her
white arms, such a dazzling reflection came from them, that Joetunheim,
and the sky, and all the sea were flooded with clear light. For a moment
everything could be distinctly seen; but Frey saw nothing but the face
of the maiden with the uplifted arms; and when she had entered the house
and shut the door after her, and darkness fell again on earth, and sky,
and sea,--darkness fell, too, upon Frey's heart.

PART II

THE GIFT

The next morning, when the little elves awoke up with the dawn, and came
thronging round their king to receive his commands, they were surprised
to see that he had changed since they last saw him.

"He has grown up in the night," they whispered one to another
sorrowfully. And in truth he was no longer so fit a teacher and
playfellow for the merry little people as he had been a few hours
before.

It was to no purpose that the sweet winds blew, and the flowers opened,
when Frey came forth from his chamber. A bright white light still danced
before him, and nothing now seemed to him worth looking at. That evening
when the sun had set, and work was over, there were no stories for the
light elves.

"Be still," Frey said, when they pressed round. "If you will be still
and listen, there are stories enough to be heard better than mine."

I do not know whether the elves heard anything; but to Frey it seemed
that flowers, and birds, and winds, and the whispering rivers, united
that day in singing one song, which he never wearied of hearing. "We are
fair," they said; "but there is nothing in the whole world so fair as
Gerda, the giant-maiden whom you saw last night in Joetunheim."

"Frey has dew-drops in his eyes," the little elves said to each other in
whispers as they sat round looking up at him, and they felt very much
surprised; for only to men and the Aesir is it permitted to be sorrowful
and weep. Soon, however