Then the flames from the hearth grew low again, and the shadows thickened in the hall. But something of the brightness still lingered within him, and he thought of how the eyes of the woman had shone on him all the evening when they sat at meat, and it seemed to him as if his soul, on which long night had settled, had been bathed in the beams of morning. Light and hope she had brought to his darkened heart; for one day he had basked in sun-shine, and ere yet his sun had sunk behind the hills again, one last evening ray had so illumined the ash-stem, that something of the light had still lingered there. Still lingered it also in his heart, though she had gone, and though the shadows of his woes crowded fast upon him, even as upon the walls of the dwelling-place they gathered in growing battalions, as the flames on the hearth sank ever lower. Yet still he sat there with open unseeing eyes. No thought of sleep was his. How could he sleep when Sieglinde abode within the house of hate? Round him the shadows grew and thickened, and at length the last sparks on the hearth were quenched, and through the open chimney only there filtered in a little greyness, so that though all was dark, yet the density of that blackness was greater here and less there.
How long he sat there, alert though lost in reverie, he knew not, but at the end a little noise fell on his ear and the door of the bed-chamber was opened, and framed in darkness he saw there a white figure. And his heart so hammered within him, that it seemed to him that the noise of it must awaken Hunding. Yet he moved not, neither spoke, and the figure came nearer. Then a voice that he knew fell like pearly rain on the stillness.
"Sleepest thou?" she whispered.
Then he could stay still no longer, but sprang up noiselessly.
"I?" he stammered, "I sleep, when thou seekest me?"
"Listen," said she. "In Hunding's night-draught I have mixed a sleeping potion, and thus the whole night is before us to devise a plan for thy safety."
"Safety?" whispered he. "With thee is my safety, and my——" And then, because he was Hunding's guest, he paused. Yet he was Hunding's foe at daybreak.
"But a sword, a sword!" she cried.
"Ah! there is no need to speak low; we shall not waken Hunding, for I brewed his drink strong. Ah! could I but bring thee the sword, for a sword waits here for him who is fit to seize it. It is near to thee now, and truly thine is an hour of sore need."
"What sayest thou? What is it thou hast said?" cried the stranger.