ids, all covered with iridescent
scales from waist to tail, glimmered through the waters in a most
entrancing way. In that shimmering, changeful light they were in
amazing contrast with the slimy, misshapen Alberich, who came from
that underworld where only half-blind, ugly, and treacherous creatures
live. The mermaids disported themselves quite unconscious of the imp's
presence, till he laughed aloud, and then, startled, they swam in
haste and affright to the rock where the gold lay stored.

"Look to our gold," Flosshilde cried in warning to her sisters.

"Aye! It was just such a creature as this, whom our father warned us
against. What does he want here, I should like to know?" Woglinde
screamed, swimming frantically to join her sisters.

"Can I not watch ye at play?" Alberich called, grinning diabolically.
"Dive deeper,--here, near to me; I shall not harm ye."

At this they recovered a little from their fright, but instead of
approaching the ugly fellow, they laughed at him and swam about, near
enough to tantalize him.

"Only listen to the languishing imp," they laughed. "He thinks to join
us in our sport."

"Why not swim down and torment him?" Flosshilde said. "He can never
catch us--such a sluggish creature as he!"

"Hello!" Wellgunde cried; "Scramble up here, if you like." Alberich
tried to join them, but he slipped and rolled about over the wet
stones and cursed in a most terrible way.

"That is all very well, but I am not made for thy wet and slippery
abode. The water makes me sneeze." He sneezed in a manner that set all
the mermaids laughing till their scales shook. However, he at last
reached the rock whereon the gold lay and he had no sooner got near
than the sun shone out so brightly above, that the rays shot through
the waters and reflected a beauteous gleam from the Rheingold.
Alberich started back in amazement.

"What is that, ye sleek ones," he asked, "that gleams so brightly
there?"

"What, imp! Dost thou not know the story of the Rheingold? Come, bathe
in its glow and maybe it will take away a little of thy ugliness," one
of the sisters cried.

"What do I care for the lustre of gold? It is the gold itself that I
want."

"Well, the lustre is all that thou wilt get," Flosshilde answered him.
"The one who would take our gold and hope to make of it the magic ring
must forswear love forever. Who is there who would do that?" she
called, swimming triumphantly toward the rock.

"What is the s