“Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost,” chanted Siegbert. “As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be. World without end. Amen. Amen.”
Egwina joined in, and Hilda looked at them wonderingly.
“Do ye know that as ye were singing, methought that ye looked alike,” said she. “Hast thou a brother, maiden?”
“No,” answered Egwina, sadly. “None of kith and kin have I. Oft hath it saddened my heart, and it hath brought mickle grief to me that I had none.”
“Hadst thou never one?” began Siegbert, when Hilda interrupted him.
“I weary of the harp and even of song, Siegbert. Prithee carry me into the courtyard, and let me be in the sunshine.”
Siegbert lifted her up. Egwina stood, not knowing what to do.
“Come thou also,” said Hilda. “I weary not of thy presence. The music doth tire me, but thy talk doth not.”
Out under the trees they went, Siegbert bolstering up Hilda with pillows.
“How bright is the sun!” said she. “How good its warmth feels!” She lay for a few moments basking in its rays. Then throwing out her hands, exclaimed with sudden energy: “O sun! Thou bright star of day! If the Saxon God be the Supreme One and Odin not the All-Powerful, darken thy rays I entreat. Turn day into night, that I may know truth, truth. It shall be a sign, and my life shall be the offering.”