And Frithiof stayed at the court until the year came round again, and spring once more put forth its early blossoms.

One day a gay hunting train went forth, but old King Ring, not being strong, as in former years, lay down to rest upon the mossy turf beneath some arching pines, whilst the hunters rode on.

Then Frithiof drew near, and in his heart wild thoughts arose. One blow of his sword, and Ingebjorg was free to be his wife.

But as he looked upon the sleeping king, there came a whisper from a better voice, It is cowardly to strike a sleeping foe.'

And Frithiof shuddered, for he was too brave a man to commit murder.

'Sleep on, old man,' he muttered gently to him

self.

But Ring's sleep was over. He started up. 'O Frithiof, why hast thou come hither to steal an old man's bride?'

'I came not hither for so dark a purpose,' answered Frithiof; I came but to look on the face. of my loved Ingebjorg once more.'

'I know it,' replied the King, 'I have tried thee, I have proved thee, and true as tried steel hast

thou passed through the furnace.

Stay with us

soon will be

yet a little longer, the old man gathered to his fathers, then shall his kingdom and his wife be thine.'

But Frithiof replied that he had already remained too long, and that on the morrow he must depart.

Yet he went not, for death had visited the palace, and old King Ring was stretched upon his bier, whilst the bards around sang of his wisdom.

Then arose a cry among the people, 'We must choose a king!'

And Frithiof raised aloft upon his shield the little son of Ring.

'Here is your king,' he said, 'the son of wise old Ring.'

The blue-eyed child laughed and clapped his hands as he beheld the glittering helmets and glancing spears of the warriors. Then tired of his high place, he sprang down into the midst of them.

Loud uprose the shout, 'The child shall be our king, and the Jarl Frithiof regent. Hail to the young king of the Northmen !'

VIII.

But Frithiof in the hour of his good fortune did not forget that he had offended the gods. He must make atonement to Balder for having caused the ruin of his temple. He must turn his steps once more homeward.

Home! Home! And on his father's grave he sank down with a softened heart, and grieved over the passion and revenge that had swayed his deeds. And as he mourned, the voices of unseen spirits answered him, and whispered that he was forgiven.

And to his wondering eyes a vision was vouchsafed, and the temple of Balder appeared before him, rebuilt in more than its ancient splendour, and deep peace sank into the soul of Frithiof.

"Rise up, rise up, Frithiof, and journey onward.' The words came clear as a command to Frithiof, and he obeyed them. He rose up, and journeyed to the place where he had left the temple a heap of blackened ruins.

And, lo! the vision that had appeared to him. was accomplished, for there stood the beautiful building, stately and fair to look upon. So beautiful, that, as he gazed, his thoughts were of Valhalla.

He entered, and the white-robed silver-bearded priest welcomed the long absent Viking, and told him that Helgi was dead, and Halfdan reigned alone.

'And know, O Frithiof,' said the aged man, 'that Balder is better pleased when the heart grows soft and injuries are forgiven, than with the most costly sacrifices. Lay aside for ever all thoughts of hatred and revenge, and stretch out to Halfdan the hand of friendship.'

Joy had softened all Frithiof's feelings of anger, and, advancing to Halfdan, who was standing near the altar, he spoke out manfully.

6

'Halfdan,' he said, 'let us forget the years that have gone by. Let all past evil and injury be buried in the grave. Henceforth let us be as brothers, and once more I ask thee, give me Ingebjorg to be my wife.'

And Halfdan made answer, 'Thou shalt be my brother.'

And as he spoke, an inner door flew open, and a sweet chorus of youthful voices was heard. A band of maidens issued forth, and at their head walked Ingebjorg fairer than ever.

Then Halfdan, leading her to Frithiof, placed her hand within that of the Viking.

'Behold thy wife,' said Halfdan. 'Well hast thou won her. May the gods attend upon your bridal.' So Ingebjorg became the wife of Frithiof at last. Thus steps of sorrow had but led them to a height of happiness that poets love to sing. Paths thick with thorns had blossomed into roses, and wreaths of everlasting flowers had crowned the winter snows.

And midst the lights and shadows

of the old North land, their lives flowed on like to two united streams that roll through quiet pastures to the ocean of eternity.