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Updated: June 13, 2025
Hermod, at the word of the despairing Hoder, mounted the eight-footed steed, and set off on the perilous journey. Meanwhile, the other gods prepared the funeral pyre for Balder, determined that it should be worthy of the beloved and honored god.
The spirit of domesticity had indeed so obviously descended upon the little group in the drawing-room, an hour or so after dinner, that Thorpe felt it quite the natural thing to put his arm through that of the Duke and lead him off to his personal smoking-room. He even published his intention by audibly bidding the Hon. Balder Plowden to remain with the ladies.
Herein Balder fancied he could trace the one-sided influence of his crack-brained uncle. Whether his daughter or not, Gnulemah was evidently a victim of his experimental mania. What particular crotchet could he have been humoring in this case? Was it an attempt to get back to the early sense of the human race? The materials for such an evolution were certainly of tempting excellence.
"Why does he go there?" demanded Prince Balder, with the air of finding nothing extravagant or improbable in the sailor's yarn. "Well, in course, I knows nothing what he does; but they do say he coasts around to all the ho-tels and overhauls the log. He's been laying for some one this twenty year. My idea, it's about time he hailed him!" "What does he want with him?"
Strong, dark colors met the eye on all sides; in the panels of the walls and distant ceiling fantastic devices showed obscurely forth. Nine mighty columns, of design like those in the doorway, were ranged along the walls, their capitals buried in the upward gloom. Becoming used to the dusk, Balder now marked an array of colossal upright forms, alternating between the pillars.
"I am Valtam's son," said Odin; "and I come to learn of thee. Tell me, I pray, for whom are the soft couches prepared that I saw in the broad halls of Death? For whom are the jewels, and the rings, and the rich clothing, and the shining shield?" "All are for Balder, Odin's son," she answered. "And the mead which has been brewed for him is hidden beneath the shining shield."
Not Manetho talked in the blackness of that night; but a devil, to whom I listened shuddering, unable to control him!" "The Reverend Manetho Glyphie, my cousin by adoption, and sometimes a devil!" muttered Balder, musingly. "I had forgotten him." People are more prone to err in fancying themselves righteous, than the reverse; nevertheless, the course and limits of self-deception are indefinite.
Such as he is now, we shall not see him standing in that dark frame again! Wherever he went, Balder Helwyse was sure to be stared at; but to this he was admirably indifferent. He never thought of speculating about what people thought of Mr. Helwyse; but to his own approval something not lightly to be had he was by no means indifferent.
Still more wall! fully a mile of it already, and yet further it rambled on through leafy thickets. But no signs of a gate! "I believe the Devil really does live here!" exclaimed Balder, in impatient heat; "and the only way in or out is on a broomstick, or by diving under ground, as Charon said!"
Her dress, indeed, was not so much a conventional appendage as a living, sensitive part of her, which might be supposed to change its color and style in sympathy with her shifting moods and surroundings, yet never losing certain distinctive traits which had their foundation in her individual nature. "A beautiful morning!" returned Balder, taking her hand. "Were you expecting me?"
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