Reaching the inner side of the wall, the little worm stopped to look about. There stood the cask; and beside it sat the daughter of the giant. “Poor girl,” said Odin—I mean, said the worm—to himself. “It is a bitter fate to be doomed to sit forever in this wretched dungeon watching your father’s stolen treasure. But be happy. Soon you will be free. There will be no wine to watch.”
The young giantess must have heard his words. For she looked up. There, just in front of the hole, the ray of light falling full upon his golden hair, stood a most beautiful youth. He looked so kindly upon her, and his eyes were so full of pity!
Her heart went out to him at once.
“I am very tired,” said he gently. “So very tired. I have come a long, long distance. My home is far from here. I cannot tell you how far—but very, very far. If you would give me just one draught from the cask of wine.”
The poor girl, grateful for the sound of a friendly voice, and for the sight of a human face, arose and lifted the lid for him.
Odin leaned over the cask. He put his lips to the wine and drank.
“You are very thirsty,” said the giantess.
“Very,” answered Odin, drinking on and on.
“You are very thirsty,” said the giantess again.
“Very,” answered Odin, still drinking on and on and on.