A silence fell upon Egwina and Siegbert and those of the jarls who were near enough to hear the words. Involuntarily all glanced at the sun. Brightly it shone as ever. A scornful laugh broke from Hilda’s lips.
“What is your Saxon God?” she cried. “Powerless is He, or the sun would darken. What! hath He not so much power as that? Out upon Him!”
“Behold!” exclaimed Siegbert, abruptly.
All eyes were turned toward the sky. An undeniable shadow was stealing over the sun. A hush fell upon them. Almost breathless, Hilda watched the bright orb. The breeze rustled the leaves in the tree-tops with a soft, murmuring sound, as if uneasy at the phenomenon. Deeper grew the shadow, for over the sun’s bright disc spread a darkening cloud.
The loud laughter of Dane and the song of skald were hushed. Knowing naught of the cause, the jarls rushed forth from the mead hall with Guthrum at their head. Awed and panic-stricken, many threw themselves on the ground in paroxysms of terror.
“’Tis Ragnarok, the twilight of the gods!” cried Guthrum in fear. “Dim groweth the sun! Soon will the stars fall, and time shall be no more!”
With hoarse cries the Danes repeated, “Ragnarok! Ragnarok!”
In the distance the cocks crew, and the birds chirped in the tree-branches as they nested to rest. Egwina and Siegbert drew close to Hilda. She had sprung to her feet and, tense and rigid, stood regarding the sun with awe. Darker grew the sky, until an intense darkness, black as starless night, spread over the earth. Only for a few moments did the phenomenon last, and then the shadow began to lighten. The cloud passed, and again the sun shone forth bright and beautiful.
Then only did the rigidity of the form of the maiden relax.
“I am answered!” she cried, with a dazzling smile as she turned to them. “Gloriously hath the Supreme One honored me! Heed well, ye jarls, what Hilda saith: The Saxon God is Supreme. I know it.”