The maiden gazed earnestly at one and another, and when she had scanned every face, she turned again and examined each a second, yea, and a third time. Her face the while grew ever more anxious and grave, and more gloomy the frown that drew her heavy brows together, till the flashing eyes, in which a tear glistened, were darkened as by the shades of night.
Then she spoke in a deep and hollow voice: “None, my father; for not one is thine equal in my eyes. But thou, in thy wisdom, hast surely chosen long since, and chosen the best.”
“He whom I choose must submit to the test of which I still bear the scars on my body. Dost thou know the test, my child?”
“Yea, surely do I know it! It is a pity that I am not a lad. The test would not make me quail!”
“And what if I should treat thee as a lad?”
“Me!” A crimson flush overspread the cheeks and forehead and throat of the noble maiden, and with trembling lips she spoke:—
“I have not deserved so great an honour, and know not whether I have understanding enough; but the test I will gladly endure, if my father will make the first throw with his own hand. He shall himself consecrate me as his successor, but he must yet live for long years after, and grant me my freedom as of yore.”
This speech was greeted with a tempest of applause, that thundered and re-echoed till the eagles felt the air quiver around them, and the trees swayed as though beneath the northern storm-wind. The King’s daughter bent her head with a smile of acknowledgment, and thrust back the golden locks from her glowing face. The day upon which the test was to begin was now fixed, and the place for it chosen.
