Shall ride that maid
When the gods have perished.’
“And now, to quote the conclusion of the Prose Edda, ‘If thou hast any further questions to ask, I know not who can answer thee, for I never heard tell of any one who could relate what will happen in the other ages of the world. Make, therefore, the best use thou canst of what has been imparted to thee.’”
“Why,” said the Captain, “this is Revelation!”
“To be sure it is,” said the Parson; “and my wonder is not that so much of revealed truth should have been corrupted, but that so much should have been preserved. There is no occasion for the sneers of those who say that in the conversion of Scandinavia, St. Ansgar merely substituted Valentine for Vali, St. Philip for Iduna, and our Lord for Baldur. He had, in truth, little to teach his converts beyond explaining allegories, and shewing them that their religion was only a mild, yet tolerably faithful type of that which was actually true,—that Thor and Odin were attributes, not persons, and that Asgard and Gimli, and Hela and Nifleheim, were states and conditions, not places.”
It must not be supposed that this conversation had been continued altogether without interruption. Shots had from time to time rung through the night-air; some faintly and from great distances; some, as it would seem, within a few hundred yards of them; there was evidently something restless in the circle of the skal, but their own sentries gave no notice, and the ear becoming accustomed to such noises, the shots had of late been little regarded.
One moment, however, changed the whole aspect of affairs, and recalled the thoughts of the party from the heights of Asgard to the affairs of middle earth.
A shot from the foot of the pass; then another! “Hjortarne! hjortarne!” (the stags! the stags!) roared out the sentries.
The Captain sprang into a dark corner, bringing the whole blaze before him, and cocked his rifle. Then came a sound like a troop of horse at full gallop—a rush!—a charge! Jacob flying into the arms of the sportsmen, his coffee pot scattering around its fragrant contents,—dark forms bounding across the bright spot of light, scattering the men, and the wet clothes, and the cookery, and the crockery! A crack from the Captain’s rifle! a crash! and the whole scene passed away like an illusion, leaving the circle tenantless, in the midst of which the great fire was blazing away as quietly and peaceably as if nothing unusual had ever been illumined by its light.