“Safely shall he sail the Firth,” piped the thin voice.  “Safely shall he sit in Fareys.  Safely shall he lie in white Gudruda’s arms—­hee! hee! Think of it, lady!”

Then Swanhild shook like a birth-tree in the gale, and her face grew ashen.

“I am content,” she said.

“Hee! hee! Brave lady!  She is content!  Ah, we sisters shall be merry.  Hearken:  if I aid thee thus I may do no more.  Thrice has the night-owl come at thy call—­now it must wing away.  Yet things will be as I have said; thine own wisdom shall guide the rest.  Ere morn Brighteyes shall stand in Atli’s hall, ere spring he will be thy love, and ere autumn Gudruda shall sit on the high seat in the hall of Middalhof the bride of Ospakar.  Draw nigh, give me thine arm, sister, that blood may seal our bargain.”

Swanhild drew near the toad, and, shuddering, stretched out her arm, and then and there the red blood ran, and there they sealed their sisterhood.  And as the nameless deed was wrought, it seemed to Swanhild as though fire shot through her veins, and fire surged before her eyes, and in the fire a shape passed up weeping.

“It is done, Blood-sister,” piped the voice; “now I must away in thy form to be about thy tasks.  Seat thee here before me—­so.  Now lay thy brow upon my brow—­fear not, it was thy mother’s—­life on death! curling locks on corpse hair!  See, so we change—­we change.  Now thou art the Death-toad and I am Swanhild, Atli’s wife, who shall be Eric’s love.”

Then Swanhild knew that her beauty had entered into the foulness of the toad, and the foulness of the toad into her beauty, for there before her stood her own shape and here she crouched a toad upon the floor.

“Away to work, away!” said a soft low voice, her own voice speaking from her own body that stood before her, and lo! it was gone.

But Swanhild crouched, in the shape of a hag-headed toad, upon the ground in her bower of Atli’s hall, and felt wickedness and evil longings and hate boil and seethe within her heart.  She looked out through her sunken horny eyes and she seemed to see strange sights.  She saw Atli, her lord, dead upon the grass.  She saw a woman asleep, and above her flashed a sword.  She saw the hall of Middalhof red with blood.  She saw a great gulf in a mountain’s heart, and men fell down it.  And, last, she saw a war-ship sailing fast out on the sea, afire, and vanish there.

Now the witch-hag who wore Swanhild’s loveliness stood upon the cliffs of Straumey and tossed her white arms towards the north.

“Come, fog! come, sleet!” she cried.  “Come, fog! come, sleet!  Put out the moon and blind the eyes of Eric!” And as she called, the fog rose up like a giant and stretched his arms from shore to shore.

“Move, fog! beat, rain!” she cried.  “Move and beat against the gale, and blind the eyes of Eric!”

And the fog moved on against the wind, and with it sleet and rain.