"The trouble is," answered Vigfusson, "that
I make no living at all; but I have invested a
large capital, which is to yield its interest in the
future. There is a treasure of song hidden in
every nook and corner of our mountains and
forests, and in our nation's heart. I am one of
the miners who have come to dig it out before
time and oblivion shall have buried every trace
of it, and there shall not be even the will-o'-the-
wisp of a legend to hover over the spot, and
keep alive the sad fact of our loss and our
blamable negligence."
Here the young man paused; his eyes gleamed,
his pale cheeks flushed, and there was a
warmth and an enthusiasm in his words which
alarmed Lage, while on Aasa it worked like the
most potent charm of the ancient mystic runes;
she hardly comprehended more than half of the
speaker's meaning, but his fire and eloquence
were on this account none the less powerful.
"If that is your object," remarked Lage, "I
think you have hit upon the right place in
coming here. You will be able to pick up many an
odd bit of a story from the servants and others
hereabouts, and you are welcome to stay here
with us as long as you choose."
Lage could not but attribute to Vigfusson the
merit of having kept Aasa at home a whole day,
and that in the month of midsummer. And
while he sat there listening to their conversation,
while he contemplated the delight that
beamed from his daughter's countenance and, as
he thought, the really intelligent expression of
her eyes, could he conceal from himself the pa-
ternal hopes that swelled his heart? She was
all that was left him, the life or the death of his
mighty race.
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