then he lifted her on the horse and gave her a golden censer， similar to those she hadalready seen at the Viking's house. A sweet perfume arose from it， while the open wound inthe forehead of the slain priest， shone with the rays of a diamond. He took the cross fromthe grave， and held it aloft， and now they rode through the air over the rustling trees，over the hills where warriors lay buried each by his dead war-horse; and the brazenmonumental figures rose up and galloped forth， and stationed themselves on the summits ofthe hills. The golden crescent on their foreheads， fastened with golden knots， glittered in themoonlight， and their mantles floated in the wind. The dragon， that guards buried treasure，lifted his head and gazed after them. The goblins and the satyrs peeped out from beneath thehills， and flitted to and fro in the fields， waving blue， red， and GREen torches， like theglowing sparks in burning paper. Over woodland and heath， flood and fen， they flew on， tillthey reached the wild moor， over which they hovered in broad circles. The Christian priest heldthe cross aloft， and it glittered like gold， while from his lips sounded pious prayers. BeautifulHelga's voice joined with his in the hymns he sung， as a child joins in her mother's song. Sheswung the censer， and a wonderful fragrance of incense arose from it; so powerful， thatthe reeds and rushes of the moor burst forth into blossom. Each germ came forth from thedeep ground： all that had life raised itself. Blooming water-lilies spread themselves forth like acarpet of wrought flowers， and upon them lay a slumbering woman， young and beautiful.Helga fancied that it was her own image she saw reflected in the still water. But it was hermother she beheld， the wife of the Marsh King， the princess from the land of the Nile.
the dead Christian priest desired that the sleeping woman should be lifted on the horse，but the horse sank beneath the load， as if he had been a funeral pall fluttering in the wind. Butthe sign of the cross made the airy phantom strong， and then the three rode away from themarsh to firm ground.
At the same moment the cock crew in the Viking's castle， and the dream figuresdissolved and floated away in the air， but mother and daughter stood opposite to each other.
“Am I looking at my own image in the deep water?” said the mother.
“Is it myself that I see represented on a white shield?” cried the daughter.
then they came nearer to each other in a fondembrace. The mother's heart beat quickly， and sheunderstood the quickened pulses. “My child!” sheexclaimed， “the flower of my heart—my lotus flowerof the deep water!” and she embraced her childagain and wept， and the tears were as a baptism ofnew life and love for Helga. “In swan's plumage Icame here，” said the mother， “and here I threw offmy feather dress. Then I sank down through thewavering ground， deep into the marsh beneath，which closed like a wall around me; I found myselfafter a while in fresher water; still a power drew me down deeper and deeper. I felt the weightof sleep upon my eyelids. Then I slept， and dreams hovered round me. It seemed to me as if Iwere again in the pyramids of Egypt， and yet the waving elder trunk that had frightened meon the moor stood ever before me. I observed the clefts and wrinkles in the stem; they shoneforth in strange colors， and took the form of hieroglyphics. It was the mummy case on which Igazed. At last it burst， and forth stepped the thousand years' old king， the mummy form，black as pitch， black as the shining wood-snail， or the slimy mud of the swamp. Whether itwas really the mummy or the Marsh King I know not. He seized me in his arms， and I felt as if Imust die. When I recovered myself， I found in my bosom a little bird， flapping its wings，twittering and fluttering. The bird flew away from my bosom， upwards towards the dark，heavy canopy above me， but a long， GREen band kept it fastened to me. I heard andunderstood the tenor of its longings. Freedom! sunlight! to my father! Then I thought ofmy father， and the sunny land of my birth， my life， and my love. Then I loosened theband， and let the bird fly away to its home—to a father. Since that hour I have ceased todream; my sleep has been long and heavy， till in this very hour， harmony and fragranceawoke me， and set me free.”
the GREen band which fastened the wings of the bird to the mother's heart， where did itflutter now? whither had it been wafted? The stork only had seen it. The band was the greenstalk， the cup of the flower the cradle in which lay the child， that now in blooming beautyhad been folded to the mother's heart.
And while the two were resting in each other's arms， the old stork flew round and roundthem in narrowing circles， till at length he flew away swiftly to his nest， and fetched away thetwo suits of swan's feathers， which he had preserved there for many years. Then he returnedto the mother and daughter， and threw the swan's plumage over them; the feathersimmediately closed around them， and they rose up from the earth in the form of two whiteswans.
“And now we can converse with pleasure，” said the stork-papa; “we can understandone another， although the beaks of birds are so different in shape. It is very fortunate thatyou came to-night. To-morrow we should have been gone. The mother， myself and the littleones， we're about to fly to the south. Look at me now： I am an old friend from the Nile， anda mother's heart contains more than her beak. She always said that the princess would knowhow to help herself. I and the young ones carried the swan's feathers over here， and I am gladof it now， and how lucky it is that I am here still. When the day dawns we shall start with aGREat company of other storks. We'll fly first， and you can follow in our track， so that youcannot miss your way. I and the young ones will have an eye upon you.”
“And the lotus-flower which I was to take with me，” said the Egyptian princess， “is flyinghere by my side， clothed in swan's feathers. The flower of my heart will travel with me; and sothe riddle is solved. Now for home! now for home!”
But Helga said she could not leave the Danish land without once more seeing her foster-mother， the loving wife of the Viking. Each pleasing recollection， each kind word， everytear from the heart which her foster-mother had wept for her， rose in her mind， and at thatmoment she felt as if she loved this mother the best.