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then the miserable form trembled； it was as if these words had touched an invisible bond between body and soul， for GREat tears stood in the eyes.
“A bitter time will come for thee at last，” continued the Viking's wife； “and it will be terrible for me too. It had been better for thee if thou hadst been left on the high-road， with the cold night wind to lull thee to sleep.” And the Viking's wife shed bitter tears， and went away in anger and sorrow， passing under the partition of furs， which hung loose over the beam and divided the hall.
the shrivelled frog still sat in the corner alone. Deep silence reigned around. At intervals， a half-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； then stepped again forward， and seized with her clumsy hands the heavy bar which was laid across the door. Gently， and with much trouble， she pushed back the bar， as silently lifted the latch， and then took up the glimmering lamp which stood in the ante-chamber of the hall. It seemed as if a stronger will than her own gave her strength. She removed the iron bolt from the closed cellar-door， and slipped in to the prisoner. He was slumbering. She touched him with her cold， moist hand， and as he awoke and caught sight of the hideous form， he shuddered as if he beheld a wicked apparition. She drew her knife， cut through the bonds which confined his hands and feet， and beckoned to him to follow her. He uttered some holy names 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 thou willingly performest acts of mercy？”
the frog-figure beckoned to him to follow her， and led him through a long gallery concealed by hanging drapery to the stables， and then pointed to a horse. He mounted upon it， and she sprang up also before him， and held tightly by the animal's mane. The prisoner understood her， and they rode on at a rapid trot， by a road which he would never have found by himself， across the open heath. He forgot her ugly form， and only thought how the mercy and loving-kindness of the Almighty was acting through this hideous apparition. As he offered pious prayers and sang holy songs of praise， she trembled. Was it the effect of prayer and praise that caused this？ or， was she shuddering in the cold morning air at the thought of approaching twilight？ What were her feelings？ She raised herself up， and wanted to stop the horse and spring off， but the Christian priest held her back with all his might， and then sang a pious song， as if this could loosen the wicked charm that had changed her into the semblance of a frog.
And the horse galloped on more wildly than before. The sky painted itself red， the first sunbeam pierced through the clouds， and in the clear flood of sunlight the frog became changed. It was Helga again， young and beautiful， but with a wicked demoniac spirit. He held now a beautiful young woman in his arms， and he was horrified at the sight. He stopped the horse， and sprang from its back. He imagined that some new sorcery was at work. But Helga also leaped from the horse and stood on the ground. The child's short garment reached only to her knee. She snatched the sharp knife from her girdle， and rushed like lightning at the astonished priest. “Let me get at thee！” she cried； “let me get at thee， that I may plunge this knife into thy body. Thou art pale as ashes， thou beardless slave.” She pressed in upon him. They struggled with each other in heavy combat， but it was as if an invisible power had been given to the Christian in the struggle. He held her fast， and the old oak under which they stood seemed to help him， for the loosened roots on the ground became entangled in the maiden's feet， and held them fast. Close by rose a bubbling spring， and he sprinkled Helga's face and neck with the water， commanded the unclean spirit to come forth， and pronounced upon her a Christian blessing. But the water of faith has no power unless the well-spring of faith flows within. And yet even here its power was shown； something more than the mere strength of a man opposed itself， through his means， against the evil which struggled within her. His holy action seemed to overpower her. She dropped her arms， glanced at him with pale cheeks and looks of amazement. He appeared to her a mighty magician skilled in secret arts； his language was the darkest magic to her， and the movements of his hands in the air were as the secret signs of a magician's wand. She would not have blinked had he waved over her head a sharp knife or a glittering axe； but she shrunk from him as he signed her with the sign of the cross on her forehead and breast， and sat before him like a tame bird， with her head bowed down. Then he spoke to her， in gentle words， of the deed of love she had performed 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 was bound in closer fetters than he had been， and that she could recover also life and light by his means. 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 the horse， though of her own free will she wished to do so. “Thou must sit behind me， not before 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 consecrated by his worship. The birds sang as if they were also of this new conGREgation； and the fragrance 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 of death， to guide their feet into the way of peace.” And he spoke these words with the deep longing of his whole nature.
Meanwhile， the horse that had carried them in wild career stood quietly by， plucking at the tall bramble-bushes， till the ripe young berries fell down upon Helga's hands， as if inviting her to eat. Patiently she allowed herself to be lifted on the horse， and sat there like a somnambulist—as one who walked in his sleep. The Christian bound two branches together with bark， in the form of a cross， and held it on high as they rode through the forest. The way gradually GREw thicker of brushwood， as they rode along， till at last it became a trackless wilderness. Bushes of the wild sloe here and there blocked up the path， so that they had to ride over them. The bubbling spring formed not a stream， but a marsh， round which also they were obliged to guide the horse； still there were strength and refreshment in the cool forest breeze， and no trifling power in the gentle words spoken in faith and Christian love by the young priest， whose inmost heart yearned to lead this poor lost one into the way of light and life. It is said that rain-drops can make a hollow in the hardest stone， and the waves of the sea can smooth and round the rough edges of the rocks； so did the dew of mercy fall upon 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 seed in the lap of earth know， when the refreshing dew and the warm sunbeams fall upon it， that it contains within itself power by which it will flourish and bloom. The song of the mother sinks into the heart of the child， and the little one prattles the words after her， without understanding their meaning； but after a time the thoughts expand， and what has been heard 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.
they rode forth from the thick forest， crossed the heath， and again entered a pathless wood. Here， towards evening， they met with robbers.
“Where hast thou stolen that beauteous maiden？” cried the robbers， seizing the horse by the bridle， and dragging the two riders from its back.
the priest had nothing to defend himself with， but the knife he had taken from Helga， and with this he struck out right and left. One of the robbers raised his axe against him； but the young priest sprang on one side， and avoided the blow， which fell with GREat force on the horse's neck， so that the blood gushed forth， and the animal sunk to the ground. Then Helga seemed suddenly to awake from her long， deep reverie； she threw herself hastily upon the dying animal. The priest placed himself before her， to defend and shelter her； but one of the robbers swung his iron axe against the Christian's head with such force that it was dashed to pieces， the blood and brains were scattered about， and he fell dead upon the ground. Then the robbers seized beautiful Helga by her white arms and slender waist； but at that moment the sun went down， and as its last ray disappeared， she was changed into the form of a frog. A greenish white mouth spread half over her face； her arms became thin and slimy； while broad hands， with webbed fingers， spread themselves out like fans. Then the robbers， in terror， let her go， and she stood among them， a hideous monster； and as is the nature of frogs to do， she hopped up as high as her own size， and disappeared in the thicket. Then the robbers knew that this must be the work of an evil spirit or some secret sorcery， and， in a terrible fright， they ran hastily from the spot.
