The heathen brothers smiled; and Hongar said, "How wildly sweet the little Christian looks! I make my choice to humble and prepare her for the base slaves of Odin's warlike halls. Go warriors, lock them up in donjon deep, until the hour of midnight, when the rites of Odin shall begin. Then will we send and bring them to the test; and all shall see whose God is most in might, and who must yield.
In prison dark the virgins were immured, with sevenfold gates and sevenfold bars shut in. Soon as they were alone, the sisters twain, Marley and Morna, in fond tears embraced their youngest sister, lauded her high soul, and vowed with her to stand, with her to die, unsullied in the faith they had been taught.
Then did they kneel on the cold dungeon floor, and one by one offered their fervent prayers at mercy's footstool. But chiefly were their vows made to the Holy Virgin; for they hoped that she would save their pure virginity from sin's pollution. Never did prayers ascend up to heaven with greater fervency. And as the hour of midnight on them drew, they kneeled; and, side by side, with lifted hands, and eyes turned toward heaven, sang aloud this holy simple hymn to their Redeemer.
HYMN TO THE REDEEMER.
Son of the Virgin, hear us! hear us!
Son of the living God, be near us!
Thou who art man in form and feature,
Yet God of glory, and God of nature.
Thou who led'st the star of the East,
Yet helpless lay at a Virgin's breast;
Slept in the manger, and cried on the knee,
Yet rulest o'er Time and Eternity.
Pity thy creatures here kneeling in dust;
Pity the beings in Thee that trust!
Thou who fed'st the hungry with bread,
And raised'st from the grave the mouldering dead;
Who walked'st on the waves of the rolling main,
Who cried'st to thy Father, and cried'st in vain;
Yet wept for the woes and the sins of man,
And prayed'st for them when thy life-blood ran;
With thy last breath who cried'st FORGIVE!
When bleeding and dying, that man might live!
Over death and the grave hast the victory won,
And now art enthroned by the stars and the sun.
For thy name's glory, hear us, and come,
And show thy power over idols dumb.
O leave the abodes of glory and bliss,
The realms of heavenly happiness;
Come swifter than the gale of even
On thy lightning's wing, the chariot of heaven;
By the gates of light and the glowing sphere,
O come on thy errand of mercy here!
But Lord of glory we know not thee,
We know not what we say;
We cannot from thy presence be,
Nor from thine eye away:
For though on the right hand of God,
Thou art here in this dark and drear abode:
Beyond the moon and the starry way
Thou holdest thy Almighty sway,
Where spirits in floods of light are swimming,
And angels round thy throne are hymning;
Yet present with all who call on thee
In this world of wo and adversity.
Then, O, thou Son of the Virgin, hear us!
God of love and of life be near us!
Our hour of trial is at hand,
And without thy aid how shall we stand?
Our stains wash out, our sins forgive;
And before thee may our spirits live.
For thee and thy truth be our bosoms steeled:
O be our help, our stay, our shield:
Show thy dread power for mercy's sake,
For thy name, and thy glory, and all is at stake;
Bow down thy heavens, and rend them asunder,
And come in the cloud, in the flame, or the thunder.
The trumpets now were sounding, while the host arose from wine and wassail, to prepare the baleful sacrifice of Christian souls. The virgins heard, and trembled as they kneeled; and beauteous Lena raised her slender hands, and prayed, with many tears, that the Almighty would stretch out his right hand and close their eyes in everlasting sleep, to save them from self-slaughter, or the fate they dreaded more.
While yet the words were but in utterance, and ere the vow was vowed, they heard the gates unbarred one after one, and saw the lights glance through the lurid gloom. Each youthful heart turned, as it were, to stone; for well they weened the Danish soldiers came to bring them forth to shame and death. They kept their humble posture, with hands and eyes upraised, for they expected no pity or compassion save from heaven.
The inmost door upon its hinges turned, like thunder out of tune; and, lo! there entered,—no heathen soldier,—but a radiant form covered with light as with a flowing robe. In his right hand he bore a golden rod, and in his left a lamp that shone as bright as the noon-day sun. A thousand thousand gems, from off his raiment, cast their dazzling lustre. Diamonds and rubies formed alternate stars, while all between was rayed and spangled o'er with ever-varying brightness. Round his head he wore a wreath of emeralds; these were set with never-fading green. They deemed he was the great high priest of Odin come to lead them to the sacrifice. But yet his look, so mild and so benign, raised half a hope within their breasts of pity and regard. They were about to plead; but ere a sound breathed from their lips, the stranger beckoned them to silence. Then, in mild and courteous strain, in their own tongue, he thus accosted them:
"To ONE already have your vows been framed; and would you bow to another? You have pleaded to heaven's high King; and would you plead to man? Rise up, and follow me." The virgins rose; they had not power to stay,—and followed him, alas! they knew not whither. They had no voice to question or complain. Door after door they passed; gate after gate; and still their guide touching them with his golden rod, they closed in jangling fury. Onward still they moved, and met the heathen bands, led by their chiefs, Hongar and Hubba. They were drunk with wine; and loudly did they halloo when they saw their prey escaped, and walking on the street all beauteous and serene: Closing around the fugitives, and jabbering uncouth terms and words obscene, the chiefs opened their arms to seize the helpless three. Just then their guide turned round unmoved, and waving his bright rod, the heathens staggered, uttered mumbling sounds, and, trying vainly to support themselves, reeling they sunk enfeebled to the earth, where all as still and motionless they lay as piles of lifeless corpses. How the virgins wondered at what they saw! and fearless now they followed their bright leader. Next they met the priests of Odin, in their wild attire, marching in grand procession to the scene of mighty sacrifice. Aloft they bore their hideous giant idol; by his sides his loathsome consort and his monster son, Freya and Thor, while all their followers sung this choral hymn in loud and warlike strains: