She stroked his wild fair locks. "I love you now, Sigurd," she said tenderly. "But perhaps we shall all love each other better in heaven."
"Yes, yes!" exclaimed Sigurd, patting her hand caressingly. "When we are all dead, dead! When our bodies crumble away and turn to flowers and birds and butterflies,--and our souls come out like white and red flames,--yes! . . . then we shall love each other and talk of such strange, strange things!" He paused and laughed wildly. Then his voice sank again into melancholy monotony--and he added: "Mistress, you are killing poor Sigurd!"
Thelma's face grow very earnest and anxious. "Are you vexed with me, dear?" she asked soothingly. "Tell me what it is that troubles you?"
Sigurd met her eyes with a look of speechless despair and shook his head.
"I cannot tell you!" he muttered. "All my thoughts have gone to drown themselves one by one in the cold sea! My heart was buried yesterday, and I saw it sealed down into its coffin. There is something of me left,--something that dances before me like a flame,--but it will not rest, it does not obey me. I call it, but it will not come! And I am getting tired, mistress--very, very tired!" His voice broke, and a low sob escaped him,--he hid his face in the folds of her dress. Güldmar looked at the poor fellow compassionately.
"The wits wander further and further away!" he said to his daughter in a low tone. "'Tis a mind like a broken rainbow, split through by storm--'twill soon vanish. Be patient with him, child,--it cannot be for long!"
"No, not for long!" cried Sigurd, raising his head brightly. "That is true--not for long! Mistress, will you come to-morrow with me and gather flowers? You used to love to wander with your poor boy in the fields,--but you have forgotten,--and I cannot find any blossoms without you! They will not show themselves unless you come! Will you? dear, beautiful mistress! will you come?"
She smiled, pleased to see him a little more cheerful. "Yes, Sigurd," she said; "I will come. We will go together early to-morrow morning and gather all the flowers we can find. Will that make you happy?"
"Yes!" he said, softly kissing the hem of her dress. "It will make me happy--for the last time."
Then he rose in an attitude of attention, as though he had been called by some one at a distance,--and with a grave, preoccupied air he moved away, walking on tip-toe as though he feared to interrupt the sound of some soft invisible music. Güldmar sighed as he watched him disappear.