dark
valley into yon lofty realms of brightness, where grace and perfection
dwell. I shall not guide thee now to Hedeby for Christian baptism.
First must thou disperse the slimy surface over the deep morass, draw
up the living root of thy life and thy cradle, and perform thy
appointed task, ere thou darest to seek the holy rite."

And he lifted her up on the horse, and gave her a golden censer like
those she had formerly seen at the Viking's castle; and strong was the
perfume which issued from it. The open wound on the forehead of the
murdered man shone like a diadem of brilliants. He took the cross from
the grave, and raised it high above him; then away they went through
the air, away over the rustling woods, away over the mountains where
the giant heroes are buried, sitting on the slaughtered steed. Still
onward the phantom forms pursued their way; and in the clear moonlight
glittered the gold circlet round their brows, and the mantle fluttered
in the breeze. The magic dragon, who was watching over his treasures,
raised his head and gazed at them. The hill dwarfs peeped out from
their mountain recesses and plough-furrows. There were swarms of them,
with red, blue, and green lights, that looked like the numerous sparks
in the ashes of newly-burned paper.

Away over forest and heath, over limpid streams and stagnant pools,
they hastened towards "the wild morass," and over it they flew in wide
circles. The Christian priest held aloft the cross, which looked as
dazzling as burnished gold, and as he did so he chanted the mass
hymns. Little Helga sang with him as a child follows its mother's
song. She swung the censer about as if before the altar, and there
came a perfume so strong, so powerful in its effect, that it caused
the reeds and sedges to blossom; every sprout shot up from the deep
bottom--everything that had life raised itself up; and with the rest
arose a mass of water-lilies, which looked like a carpet of
embroidered flowers. Upon it lay a sleeping female, young and
beautiful. Helga thought she beheld herself mirrored in the calm
water; but it was her mother whom she saw--the mud-king's wife--the
princess from the banks of the Nile.

The dead Christian priest prayed that the sleeper might be lifted upon
the horse. At first the latter sank under the additional burden, as if
its body were but a winding-sheet fluttering in the wind; but the sign
of the cross gave strength to the airy phantom, and all three rode