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"Perfectly happy, my father!"
At the sound of her dulcet voice, Sigurd looked up. His large blue eyes
were full of tears, he took her hand and held it in his meagre and
wasted one.
"Mistress!" he said suddenly, "do you think I shall soon die?"
She turned her pitying eyes down upon him, startled by the vibrating
melancholy of his tone.
"Thou wilt die, Sigurd," answered Gueldmar gently, "when the gods
please,--not one second sooner or later. Art thou eager to see
Valhalla?"
Sigurd nodded dreamily. "They will understand me there!" he murmured.
"And I shall grow straight and strong and brave! Mistress, if you meet
me in Valhalla, you will love me!"
She stroked his wild fair locks. "I love you now, Sigurd," she said
tenderly. "But perhaps we shall all love each other better in heaven."
"Yes, yes!" exclaimed Sigurd, patting her hand caressingly. "When we are
all dead, dead! When our bodies crumble away and turn to flowers and
birds and butterflies,--and our souls come out like white and red
flames,--yes! .


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