to take his place in the solemn dance next
to him and Hildegardis. Froda inclined his head in token of friendly
assent.

The horns and hautboys had already sounded their solemn invitation;
Edwald hastened to give his hand to his fair bride; and while he
advanced with her to the midst of the stately hall, Froda offered his
hand for the torch-dance to a noble lady who stood the nearest to him,
without farther observing her, and took with her the next place to the
wedded pair.

But how was it when a light began to beam from his companion, before
which the torch in his left hand lost all its brightness? Hardly dared
he, in sweet and trembling hope, to raise his eyes to the lady; and when
at last he ventured, all his boldest wishes and longings were fulfilled.
Adorned with a radiant bridal crown of emeralds, Aslauga moved in solemn
loveliness beside him, and beamed on him from amid the sunny light of
her golden hair, blessing him with her heavenly countenance. The amazed
spectators could not withdraw their eyes from the mysterious pair--the
knight in his light silver mail, with the torch raised on high in his
hand, earnest and joyful, moving with a measured step, as if engaged in
a ceremony of deep and mysterious meaning. His lady beside him, rather
floating than dancing, beaming light from her golden hair, so that you
would have thought the day was shining into the night; and when a look
could reach through all the surrounding splendour to her face, rejoicing
heart and sense with the unspeakably sweet smile of her eyes and lips.

Near the end of the dance she inclined towards Froda, and whispered to
him with an air of tender confidence, and with the last sound of the
horns and hautboys she had disappeared.

The most curious spectator dared not question Froda about his partner.
Hildegardis did not seem to have been conscious of her presence, but
shortly before the end of the festival Edwald approached his friend, and
asked in a whisper, "Was it?"

"Yes, dear youth," answered Froda; "your marriage-dance has been
honoured by the presence of the most exalted beauty which has been ever
beheld in any land. Ah! and if I rightly understood her meaning, you
will never more see me stand sighing and gazing upon the ground. But
hardly dare I hope it. Now good-night, dear Edchen, good-night. As soon
as I may I will tell you all."

CHAPTER IX.

The light and joyous dreams of morning still played round Edwald's head