the heir of Sweyn,
the outlaw and homicide, was the love that I bore to Harold; but that
that love itself was mournful and bodeful as the hwata [209] of distant
sorrow. And thou didst take me, O Prophetess, to thy bosom, and thy cold
kiss touched my lips and my brow; and there, beside this altar and
grave-mound, by leaf and by water, by staff and by song, thou didst bid
me take comfort; for that as the mouse gnawed the toils of the lion, so
the exile obscure should deliver from peril the pride and the prince of
my House--that, from that hour with the skein of his fate should mine be
entwined; and his fate was that of kings and of kingdoms. And then, when
the joy flushed my cheek, and methought youth came back in warmth to the
night of my soul--then, Hilda, I asked thee if my life would be spared
till I had redeemed the name of my father. Thy seidstaff passed over the
leaves that, burning with fire-sparks, symbolled the life of the man, and
from the third leaf the flame leaped up and died; and again a voice from
thy breast, hollow, as if borne from a hill-top afar, made answer, 'At
thine entrance to manhood life bursts into blaze, and shrivels up into
ashes.' So I knew that the doom of the infant still weighed unannealed
on the years of the man; and I come here to my native land as to glory
and the grave. But," said the young man, with a wild enthusiasm, "still
with mine links the fate which is loftiest in England; and the rill and
the river shall rush in one to the Terrible Sea."

"I know not that," answered Hilda, pale, as if in awe of herself: "for
never yet hath the rune, or the fount or the tomb, revealed to me clear
and distinct the close of the great course of Harold; only know I through
his own stars his glory and greatness; and where glory is dim, and
greatness is menaced, I know it but from the stars of others, the rays of
whose influence blend with his own. So long, at least, as the fair and
the pure one keeps watch in the still House of Life, the dark and the
troubled one cannot wholly prevail. For Edith is given to Harold as the
Fylgia, that noiselessly blesses and saves: and thou--" Hilda checked
herself, and lowered her hood over her face, so that it suddenly became
invisible.

"And I?" asked Haco, moving near to her side.

"Away, son of Sweyn; thy feet trample the grave of the mighty dead!"

Then Hilda lingered no longer, but took her way towards the house. Haco's
eye followed her in silence.