“Does that mean that he will escape us?” said the danneman, who listened religiously to his sister.
“I see them walking through noisome torrents,” she resumed, “the perjurers and the murderers! Do you understand that? Do you know what I mean to say?”
“No, I don’t understand it at all,” replied Christian, who recognized a refrain of the ancient Scandinavian songs of the Voluspa, and who thought that he also recognized the voice heard among the boulders of Stollborg.
“Do not interrupt her,” said the danneman. “Go on, Karine; we are listening.”
“I saw the fire burning in the hall of the rich, but before the door stood death.”
“Do you mean that for this young man?” inquired the danneman.
Without seeming to hear him, she continued:
“One day, in a field, I gave my garments to two wooden men; when they were clothed they resembled heroes: the naked man is timid.”
“There, you see!” cried Bœtsoi, looking at Christian with an air of simple triumph; “now, I hope, she is speaking clearly.”
“Do you think so?”