chill mist closes round! my life draws to its end! Nay, weep
not, child! were it not for thee I would long ere this have prayed the
gods my masters to remove me from my sojourn among the degenerate sons
of our noble fathers; but I trembled for thy fate, sweet one!" These
last words were almost inexpressibly tender. "I dared not trust thy
slight frame to battle unsheltered with the storm. Now the blast
summoning me is sounded. I cannot much longer disobey, though I may
crave for brief respite. But I have found thee refuge! thou wilt be in
a safe haven. Stay! I must speak while the spirit is on me!"
"Mother!" sobbed the girl, clasping the old woman's knees.
"Hilda!" said Judith slowly, "call me no longer by that name! I am not
thy mother; before men only do I call thee daughter. Silence!" she
exclaimed imperatively, as Hilda looked quickly up, doubting whether she
heard aright. "Silence! and listen!"
"I have loved thee truly, child, and have nurtured thee as a mother
would! and thou art no stranger! the same blood runs in our veins! Yes!
thou art mine! for thy father was my brother. Does not that give thee to
me? Hush! thou shalt hear the tale."
Hilda's were not the only ears that drank in every word of the following
story.
"Twenty years ago what a demi-god was Haco! He was a giant, but even men
who feared him loved him. Though brave and strong as Odin himself, his
mind was gentle and kind as a maiden's; first in council, in war, in
manly sports, he ever had an open ear and a helping hand for the
troubled and distressed. He was adored, nay, worshipped, by all. What
wonder then that when he and the proud chief Algar courted the same
maiden, he was preferred! Thou knowest not, Hilda, the mysteries of a
tender heart; may it be long indeed before thy heart is seared by human
passion!" It was fortunate that darkness hid the burning blush which
suffused Hilda's face and neck at this pious wish. Judith
proceeded:--"Thy father wedded and thou wast born. He poured on thy
infant form all the wealth of his great generous heart. Algar nursed his
revenge: he dared not act openly, for our house was as noble as his
own--nay, nobler!" she added haughtily, "but he bided his time. Haco's
tower was near the shore, a pleasant, lovely, spot. One night the news
was borne to me that enemies had landed, and that his dwelling was in
flames; I hurried towards it; I was stopped by armed warriors; Algar's
men, they said, had hastened to th
|