Heedless of his tone, Fastrada took the ornament, and stared fixedly at the garnets with which it was studded.
"The queen's gems are far more precious," she murmured, half aloud.
"I will win you the like, maiden," answered Olvir, quickly, but his frown deepened.
For a while Fastrada made no response. Her eyes were still downcast, and her face was dark with doubt and inward struggle.
"Ai--my mother," she at last whispered; "not often do her bodings fall amiss! Yet once I knew the fiends to fail her-- Ah, if--"
The words faltered on the girl's lips, and she glanced up furtively at her lover. But at sight of his look she started back with a stifled cry.
Olvir's face was white as new ivory, and his eyes glittered like an angry snake's.
"So, witch-daughter," he lisped softly as a young child, "this is your Frank love. It is a merry game to play fast and loose,--a merry game! It seems that I fared to Rhine Stream on my lord king's errand,--both as to father and daughter. 'A king, grey of eye'--and he has chosen you to go as mate for--his daughter. So; the game is played! We will accept your mother's boding; we will trust to her fiends."
"Olvir, Olvir!--my hero! What is this? Why do you speak so cruelly? Ah, do not shrink from me! I was mad--mad! Truly, I love you, Olvir! I will never love another. Take me back--into your heart!"
"You mistake, daughter of Rudulf," replied Olvir, a harder note in his lisping voice. "My heart held the image of a maiden pure and true; you have shattered that holy image. How can I hold love in my heart, when you have thrust in doubt? Love! You say you love me, when you could stand for an instant weighing my love against a queen's crown--love!"