Eugenia's little head was at the window like a flash of lightning. A half-stifled cry of joy escaped her lips, then she instantly stooped again.
"Oh, oh, how magnificent he looks!" cried Hilda, clasping her hands with the most joyful surprise. "In full, heavy armor, a huge bear-head with gaping jaws on his helmet--"
"Oh, yes! He killed it himself on the Auras Mountain," murmured the little bride.
"And how the skin floats around his mighty shoulders! He carries a spear as thick as a sapling, and on his shield--What is the emblem? A stone-hammer?"
"Yes, yes," cried Eugenia, eagerly, lifting her head cautiously to the window-sill, "that is his house-mark. His family descends, according to ancient tradition, from a red-bearded demon with a hammer--I don't remember the name."
"What demon?" exclaimed Hilda. "The god Donar is his ancestor, and Thrasaric does him honor. He is talking with Gibamund. They are looking up; he is saluting me. Oh dear, how pale and sad the poor giant looks!"
"Is that true?" The little brown head flew up again.
"Stoop, little one! He must not see that we are far less able to bear the yearning than he. My husband is waving his hand to me. He is coming upstairs; Thrasaric seems to be following him."
Eugenia had already vanished in the next room.