"That ring does not belong to you. You stole its gold from the Rhine-children," he said.

"Think twice, Wotan, before you take this ring from me! I warn you now a curse goes with it."

But Wotan drew the ring from the dwarf's finger, then set him free.

"Farewell, Alberich! Farewell!"

"Ha!" laughed Alberich in scorn. "It will never bring you happiness. Its owner shall always feel its curse of care, sorrow, and unrest."

Then, turning, he groped his way down the cavern, far poorer than the day he went stealing along the slippery bed of the river. Then, he had no gold. Now, he had no gold and no friends.

THE GREEDY FAFNER

Wotan and Loki hurried back to the mountain-side with their treasure.

At the same time Fafner returned, bringing Freya.

Already Fafner had made up his mind that if he gave Freya back, he must have a very great deal of gold.

When Freya again reached her own country, the sun grew brighter, the air grew sweeter, and the glow of youth came back to the cheeks of Wotan and his family.

"Here, Fafner, is your gold!" great Wotan cried.

"I am sorry to give Freya up," said Fafner. "Pile up the gold between her and me. You may keep her if there is gold enough to hide her completely from my sight. So long as I can see her, I cannot part with her."

Then Wotan and his family heaped the glittering gold. They piled it as loosely as they could, but when they had put on all the gold they had, the greedy Fafner cried:--

"More, more! It is not high enough! Still I can see fair Freya's shimmering hair. Throw on that shining helmet!"

"Put it on, Loki," commanded Wotan. "There, Fafner, is your pay. Freya again belongs to me."

"Not yet!" cried Fafner, as he peeped through a s.p.a.ce in the heap. "I can see her eyes through here." Then, pointing to the ring on Wotan's finger: "Bring that ring and put it in this s.p.a.ce."

"Never!" cried Wotan.

Then Loki spoke. "The ring belongs to the Rhine-maidens, and Wotan is going to return it to them. Already we have given you more than you should expect, all that shining heap and the helmet besides."

"I will not give you any more!" roared Wotan. "Not all the mighty world shall take this ring from my finger!"

"Then I shall be gone," said Fafner. "I was afraid you would not give me enough gold. Freya is mine forevermore."

Wotan's family began to plead for Freya. "She is worth more to us than all the gold in this world! Without her we must all wither and die!"

It was no use to resist. Wotan knew that he dared not lose Freya.

Taking the ring from his finger, he flung it upon the shining heap.

A SLAVE TO GOLD

Fafner gathered up the h.o.a.rd--the h.o.a.rd for which he had worked--the h.o.a.rd for which he had made so much trouble.

He carried it off to his own country. Now that he had it, he had no thought of using it.

He wanted it merely for gold's sake; not for the sake of the great, good things that might be done with it. The only thing he wished to do was to keep others from getting it.

He heaped it up in a cave in the forest. Then he put on the helmet and changed himself into a fierce, ugly dragon.

For the love of mere gold he was willing to give up being a splendid giant, who roamed freely over the beautiful mountains, and to become a hideous, twisting, squirming monster.

The rest of his life he would lie at the door of the cave and guard the treasure. The treasure should lie there useless to all the world.

Fafner,--a slave to gold!

THE BEAUTIFUL VALHALLA

As Fafner carried away his treasure, a great storm gathered over the mountain crest.

The sky grew black. The thunder rolled. Its echoes bounded on from cloud to cloud, from peak to peak, then rumbled down the valleys to the sea.

Then the clouds drifted away. The setting sun shot its long rays into the deep valley.

There, arching over the river and reaching from the flowery mountain-side to the very door of the gleaming castle, stood a shining rainbow bridge.

"Lo! our castle! Our beautiful Valhalla!" cried the king. "Let us cross over. It shall be our dwelling-place forevermore."

One by one they stepped upon the bridge.

As Wotan walked slowly and sadly over, he heard the wailing of the Rhine-maidens in the river below:--

"Rhine-gold! Rhine-gold!

We long for your light!"

"I shall never be happy again," thought Wotan. "I have given my honor for Valhalla. What an awful price I have paid!"

THE WALKUERE

A MATCHLESS SWORD

Many years pa.s.sed. The giants lived on in their beautiful Valhalla.

But their king was sad.