Swear by the wrath and thunder of the gods!--swear by the
unflinching Hammer of Thor,--swear by the gates of Valhalla, and in the
name of Odin!--and having sworn, the curse of all these be upon thee if
thou fail to keep thy vow!"
And Valdemar had sworn. Now that the oath was kept--now that his
promised obedience had been carried out to the extremest letter, he was
as one stupefied. Shivering, yet regardless of the snow that began to
fall thickly, he kept his post, staring, staring in drear fascination
across the Fjord, where the _Valkyrie_ drifted, now a mass of flame
blown fiercely by the wind, and gleaming red through the flaky
snow-storm.
The aurora borealis faded by gradual degrees, and the flaming ship was
more than ever distinctly visible. She was seen from the shore of
Bosekop, by a group of the inhabitants, who, rubbing their dull eyes,
could not decide Whether what they beheld was fire, or a new phase of
the capricious, ever-changing Northern Lights,--the rapidly descending
snow rendering their vision bewildered and uncertain.
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