is not called Sigmund,' answered
she.

'Well, it is lucky for you that there are a great many Sigmunds in
this part of the world,' replied her father, 'so that you can take
your choice! And what do _you_ say?' he added, turning to the second.

'Oh, _I_ think that there is no name so beautiful as Sigurd,' cried
she.

'Then you won't be an old maid either,' answered he. 'There are seven
Sigurds in the next village alone! And you, Helga?'

Helga, who was still the prettiest of the three, looked up. She also
had her favourite name, but, just as she was going to say it, she
seemed to hear a voice whisper: 'Marry no one who is not called
Habogi.'

The girl had never heard of such a name, and did not like it, so she
determined to pay no attention; but as she opened her mouth to tell
her father that her husband must be called Njal, she found herself
answering instead: 'If I do marry it will be to no one except Habogi.'

'Who _is_ Habogi?' asked her father and sisters; 'We never heard of
such a person.'

'All I can tell you is that he will be my husband, if ever I have
one,' returned Helga; and that was all she would say.

Before very long the young men who lived in the neighbouring villages
or on the sides of the mountains, had heard of this talk of the three
girls, and Sigmunds and Sigurds in scores came to visit the little
cottage. There were other young men too, who bore different names,
though not one of them was called 'Habogi,' and these thought that
they might perhaps gain the heart of the youngest. But though there
was more than one 'Njal' amongst them, Helga's eyes seemed always
turned another way.

At length the two elder sisters made their choice from out of the
Sigurds and the Sigmunds, and it was decided that both weddings should
take place at the same time. Invitations were sent out to the friends
and relations, and when, on the morning of the great day, they were
all assembled, a rough, coarse old peasant left the crowd and came up
to the brides' father.

'My name is Habogi, and Helga must be my wife,' was all he said. And
though Helga stood pale and trembling with surprise, she did not try
to run away.

'I cannot talk of such things just now,' answered the father, who
could not bear the thought of giving his favourite daughter to this
horrible old man, and hoped, by putting it off, that something might
happen. But the sisters, who had always been rather jealous of Helga,
were secretly pleased th