LITMIR.BIZ

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air, and brought it swiftly down, not upon the head of Veliant, who was trembling with expectant fear, but upon the foreman’s anvil. The great block of iron was shivered by the blow, and flew into a thousand pieces. Then, turning again towards the thoroughly frightened foreman, Siegfried said, while angry lightning-flashes darted from his eyes,—

      “What if I were to strike you thus?”

      Veliant sank upon the ground, and begged for mercy.

      “You are safe,” said Siegfried, walking away. “I would scorn to harm a being like you!”

      The apprentices were struck dumb with amazement and fear; and when Siegfried had returned to his anvil they one by one dropped their hammers, and stole away from the smithy. In a secret place not far from the shop, they met together, to plot some means by which they might rid themselves of him whom they both hated and feared.

      The next morning Veliant came to Siegfried’s forge, with a sham smile upon his face. The boy knew that cowardice and base deceit lurked, ill concealed, beneath that smile; yet, as he was wont to do, he welcomed the foreman kindly.

      “Siegfried,” said Veliant, “let us be friends again. I am sorry that I was so foolish and so rash yesterday, and I promise that I will never again be so rude and unmanly as to become angry at you. Let us be friends, good Siegfried! Give me your hand, I pray you, and with it your forgiveness.”

      Siegfried grasped the rough palm of the young smith with such a gripe, that the smile vanished from Veliant’s face, and his muscles writhed with pain.

      “I give you my hand, certainly,” said the boy, “and I will give you my forgiveness when I know that you are worthy of it.”

      As soon as Veliant’s aching hand allowed him speech, he said,—

      “Siegfried, you know that we have but little charcoal left for our forges, and our master will soon return from his journey. It will never do for him to find us idle, and the fires cold. Some one must go to-day to the forest-pits, and bring home a fresh supply of charcoal. How would you like the errand? It is but a pleasant day’s journey to the pits; and a ride into the greenwood this fine summer day would certainly be more agreeable than staying in the smoky shop.”

      “I should like the drive very much,” answered Siegfried; “but I have never been to the coal-pits, and I might lose my way in the forest.”

      “No danger of that,” said Veliant. “Follow the road that goes straight into the heart of the forest, and you cannot miss your way. It will lead you to the house of Regin, the master, the greatest charcoal-man in all Rhineland. He will be right glad to see you for Mimer’s sake, and you may lodge with him for the night. In the morning he will fill your cart with the choicest charcoal, and you can drive home at your leisure; and, when our master comes again, he will find our forges flaming, and our bellows roaring, and our anvils ringing, as of yore.”

      Siegfried, after some further parley, agreed to undertake the errand, although he felt that Veliant, in urging him to do so, wished to work him some harm. He harnessed the donkey to the smith’s best cart, and drove merrily away along the road which led towards the forest.6 The day was bright and clear; and as Siegfried rode through the flowery meadows, or betwixt the fields of corn, a thousand sights and sounds met him, and made him glad. Now and then he would stop to watch the reapers in the fields, or to listen to the song of some heaven-soaring lark lost to sight in the blue sea overhead. Once he met a company of gayly dressed youths and maidens, carrying sheaves of golden grain,—for it was now the harvest-time,—and singing in praise of Frey, the giver of peace and plenty.

      “Whither away, young prince?” they merrily asked.

      “To Regin, the coal-burner, in the deep greenwood,” he answered.

      “Then may the good Frey have thee in keeping!” they cried. “It is a long and lonesome journey.” And each one blessed him as they passed.

      It was nearly noon when he drove into the forest, and left the blooming meadows and the warm sunshine behind him. And now he urged the donkey forwards with speed; for he knew that he had lost much precious time, and that many miles still lay between him and Regin’s charcoal-pits. And there was nothing here amid the thick shadows of the wood to make him wish to linger; for the ground was damp, and the air was chilly, and every thing was silent as the grave. And not a living creature did Siegfried see, save now and then a gray wolf slinking across the road, or a doleful owl sitting low down in some tree-top, and blinking at him in the dull but garish light. Evening at last drew on, and the shadows in the wood grew deeper; and still no sign of charcoal-burner, nor of other human being, was seen. Night came, and thick darkness settled around; and all the demons of the forest came forth, and clamored and chattered, and shrieked and howled. But Siegfried was not afraid. The bats and vampires came out of their hiding-places, and flapped their clammy wings in his face; and he thought that he saw ogres and many fearful creatures peeping out from behind every tree and shrub. But, when he looked upwards through the overhanging tree-tops, he saw the star-decked roof of heaven, the blue mantle which the All-Father has hung as a shelter over the world; and he went bravely onwards, never doubting but that Odin has many good things in store for those who are willing to trust him.

      And by and by the great round moon arose in the east, and the fearful sounds that had made the forest hideous began to die away; and Siegfried saw, far down the path, a red light feebly gleaming. And he was glad, for he knew that it must come from the charcoal-burners’ pits. Soon he came out upon a broad, cleared space; and the charcoal-burners’ fires blazed bright before him; and some workmen, swarthy and soot-begrimed, came forwards to meet him.

      “Who are you?” they asked; “and why do you come through the forest at this late hour?”

      “I am Siegfried,” answered the boy; “and I come from Mimer’s smithy. I seek Regin, the king of charcoal-burners; for I must have coal for my master’s smithy.”

      “Come with me,” said one of the men: “I will lead you to Regin.”

      Siegfried alighted from his cart, and followed the man to a low-roofed hut not far from the burning pits. As they drew near, they heard the sound of a harp, and strange, wild music within; and Siegfried’s heart was stirred with wonder as he listened. The man knocked softly at the door, and the music ceased.

      “Who comes to break into Regin’s rest at such a time as this?” said a rough voice within.

      “A youth who calls himself Siegfried,” answered the man. “He says that he comes from Mimer’s smithy, and he would see you, my master.”

      “Let him come in,” said the voice.

      Siegfried passed through the low door, and into the room beyond; and so strange was the sight that met him that he stood for a while in awe, for never in so lowly a dwelling had treasures so rich been seen. Jewels sparkled from the ceiling; rare tapestry covered the walls; and on the floor were heaps of ruddy gold and silver, still unfashioned. And in the midst of all this wealth stood Regin, the king of the forest, the greatest of charcoal-men. And a strange old man he was, wrinkled and gray and beardless; but out of his eyes sharp glances gleamed of a light that was not human, and his heavy brow and broad forehead betokened wisdom and shrewd cunning. And he welcomed Siegfried kindly for Mimer’s sake, and set before him a rich repast of venison, and wild honey, and fresh white bread, and luscious grapes. And, when the meal was finished, the boy would have told his errand, but Regin stopped him.

      “Say nothing of your business to-night,” said he; “for the hour is already late, and you are weary. Better lie down, and rest until the morrow; and then we will talk of the matter which has brought you hither.”

      And Siegfried was shown to a couch of the fragrant leaves of the myrtle and hemlock, overspread with soft white linen, such as is made in the far-off Emerald Isle; and he was lulled to sleep by sweet strains of music from Regin’s harp,—music which told of the days when the gods were young on the earth. And as he slept he dreamed. He dreamed that he stood upon the crag of a high mountain, and that the eagles flew screaming around him, and the everlasting snows lay at his feet, and the world in all its beauty was stretched out like a map below him; and he longed

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