the shrivelled frog still sat in the corner alone. Deep silence reigned around. At intervals， ahalf-stifled sigh was heard from its inmost soul; it was the soul of Helga. It seemed in pain，as if a new life were arising in her heart. Then she took a step forward and listened; thenstepped again forward， and seized with her clumsy hands the heavy bar which was laid acrossthe door. Gently， and with much trouble， she pushed back the bar， as silently lifted thelatch， and then took up the glimmering lamp which stood in the ante-chamber of the hall. Itseemed as if a stronger will than her own gave her strength. She removed the iron bolt fromthe closed cellar-door， and slipped in to the prisoner. He was slumbering. She touched himwith her cold， moist hand， and as he awoke and caught sight of the hideous form， heshuddered as if he beheld a wicked apparition. She drew her knife， cut through the bondswhich confined his hands and feet， and beckoned to him to follow her. He uttered some holynames and made the sign of the cross， while the form remained motionless by his side.
“Who art thou?” he asked， “whose outward appearance is that of an animal， while thouwillingly performest acts of mercy?”
the frog-figure beckoned to him to follow her， and led him through a long galleryconcealed by hanging drapery to the stables， and then pointed to a horse. He mounted uponit， and she sprang up also before him， and held tightly by the animal's mane. The prisonerunderstood her， and they rode on at a rapid trot， by a road which he would never have foundby himself， across the open heath. He forgot her ugly form， and only thought how the mercyand loving-kindness of the Almighty was acting through this hideous apparition. As heoffered pious prayers and sang holy songs of praise， she trembled. Was it the effect ofprayer and praise that caused this? or， was she shuddering in the cold morning air at thethought of approaching twilight? What were her feelings? She raised herself up， and wantedto stop the horse and spring off， but the Christian priest held her back with all his might， andthen sang a pious song， as if this could loosen the wicked charm that had changed her intothe semblance of a frog.
And the horse galloped on more wildly than before. The sky painted itself red， the firstsunbeam pierced through the clouds， and in the clear flood of sunlight the frog becamechanged. It was Helga again， young and beautiful， but with a wicked demoniac spirit. He heldnow a beautiful young woman in his arms， and he was horrified at the sight. He stopped thehorse， and sprang from its back. He imagined that some new sorcery was at work. But Helgaalso leaped from the horse and stood on the ground. The child's short garment reached onlyto her knee. She snatched the sharp knife from her girdle， and rushed like lightning at theastonished priest. “Let me get at thee!” she cried; “let me get at thee， that I may plungethis knife into thy body. Thou art pale as ashes， thou beardless slave.” She pressed in uponhim. They struggled with each other in heavy combat， but it was as if an invisible power hadbeen given to the Christian in the struggle. He held her fast， and the old oak under which theystood seemed to help him， for the loosened roots on the ground became entangled in themaiden's feet， and held them fast. Close by rose a bubbling spring， and he sprinkled Helga'sface and neck with the water， commanded the unclean spirit to come forth， and pronouncedupon her a Christian blessing. But the water of faith has no power unless the well-spring offaith flows within. And yet even here its power was shown; something more than the merestrength of a man opposed itself， through his means， against the evil which struggled withinher. His holy action seemed to overpower her. She dropped her arms， glanced at him withpale cheeks and looks of amazement. He appeared to her a mighty magician skilled in secretarts; his language was the darkest magic to her， and the movements of his hands in the airwere as the secret signs of a magician's wand. She would not have blinked had he waved overher head a sharp knife or a glittering axe; but she shrunk from him as he signed her with thesign of the cross on her forehead and breast， and sat before him like a tame bird， with herhead bowed down. Then he spoke to her， in gentle words， of the deed of love she hadperformed for him during the night， when she had come to him in the form of an ugly frog，to loosen his bonds， and to lead him forth to life and light; and he told her that she wasbound in closer fetters than he had been， and that she could recover also life and light by hismeans. He would take her to Hedeby2 to St. Ansgarius， and there， in that Christian town，the spell of the sorcerer would be removed. But he would not let her sit before him on thehorse， though of her own free will she wished to do so. “Thou must sit behind me， notbefore me，” said he. “Thy magic beauty has a magic power which comes from an evil origin，and I fear it; still I am sure to overcome through my faith in Christ.” Then he knelt down，and prayed with pious fervor. It was as if the quiet woodland were a holy church consecratedby his worship. The birds sang as if they were also of this new conGREgation; and thefragrance of the wild flowers was as the ambrosial perfume of incense; while， above all，sounded the words of Scripture， “A light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow ofdeath， to guide their feet into the way of peace.” And he spoke these words with the deeplonging of his whole nature.
Meanwhile， the horse that had carried them in wild career stood quietly by， plucking at thetall bramble-bushes， till the ripe young berries fell down upon Helga's hands， as if invitingher to eat. Patiently she allowed herself to be lifted on the horse， and sat there like asomnambulist—as one who walked in his sleep. The Christian bound two branches together withbark， in the form of a cross， and held it on high as they rode through the forest. The waygradually GREw thicker of brushwood， as they rode along， till at last it became a tracklesswilderness. Bushes of the wild sloe here and there blocked up the path， so that they had toride over them. The bubbling spring formed not a stream， but a marsh， round which alsothey were obliged to guide the horse; still there were strength and refreshment in the coolforest breeze， and no trifling power in the gentle words spoken in faith and Christian love bythe young priest， whose inmost heart yearned to lead this poor lost one into the way of lightand life. It is said that rain-drops can make a hollow in the hardest stone， and the waves ofthe sea can smooth and round the rough edges of the rocks; so did the dew of mercy fallupon Helga， softening what was hard， and smoothing what was rough in her character.These effects did not yet appear; she was not herself aware of them; neither does the seedin the lap of earth know， when the refreshing dew and the warm sunbeams fall upon it， that itcontains within itself power by which it will flourish and bloom. The song of the mother sinksinto the heart of the child， and the little one prattles the words after her， withoutunderstanding their meaning; but after a time the thoughts expand， and what has beenheard in childhood seems to the mind clear and bright. So now the “Word，” which is all-powerful to create， was working in the heart of Helga.