‘No, no!’ she said, and reminded him of the Viking’s stronghold and the moor, and of the journey hither!
Then father-stork blinked his eyes: ‘That is a very old story; I have heard it from my great-great-great-grandmother’s time! Yes, certainly, there was such a princess in Egypt from the land of Denmark, but she disappeared on the night of her wedding many hundreds of years ago, and never came back again. That you may read for yourself on the monument in the garden; there are sculptured both swans and storks, and at the top you yourself stand in white marble.’
It was indeed so. Little Helga saw it, understood it, and fell on her knees.
The sun broke forth, and as in former times at the touch of its beams the toad form disappeared and the beautiful shape was seen, so she raised herself now at the baptism of light in a form of brighter beauty, purer than the air, a ray of light—to the Father of all.
Her body sank in dust; there lay a faded lotus-flower where she had stood.
* * * * * *
‘Then that was a new ending to the story!’ said the father-stork. ‘I had not at all expected it! but I rather like it!’
‘I wonder what my young ones will say about it!’ said the mother-stork.
‘Yes, that is certainly the principal thing!’ answered the father.
