"Answer," cried Adalo angrily. "Can you swear that the rider was Ausonius?"
"Ausonius! Yes, yes, that is what she always called him. Father Ausonius. And that's what she cried out yesterday when she saw him: 'Father Ausonius!' she shrieked."
He broke off abruptly and began to rub his head (the wound suddenly seemed to pain him) muttering meanwhile in his Sarmatian dialect, which Adalo did not understand.
"So it was really he," sighed Adalo. "And I must thank the gods for having led her to him."
"Freya will reward you for it," said the blind woman suddenly, raising herself on her left arm and groping with her right hand in the direction of the voice until she reached the youth's head and stroked his long locks. "The dwellers in Asgard will repay you for such thoughts."
"Must I not cherish them, Mother? Oh, if you could only sit up again!"
"Your drink, the Romans' drink, cheers the weary soul."
"Ausonius will protect her from the others. But," Adalo went on angrily, "who will defend her from Ausonius? She was tenderly attached to him."
"As a child to its father."
"Be it so--at that time. But now the maiden will owe him gratitude for everything, even the highest boon."