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he could not believe that she were really dead。 And at his side stood
Vigfusson； pale and aghast； with the burning torch in his hand。 The
footsteps of the men awakened the father； but when he turned his face on
them they shuddered and started back。 Then Lage rose； lifted the maiden
from the stone； and silently laid her in Vigfusson's arms； her rich yellow
hair flowed down over his shoulder。 The youth let his torch fall into the
waters； and with a sharp； serpent…like hiss its flame was quenched。 He
crossed the brook； the men followed； and the dark pine…trees closed over
the last descendant of Lage Ulfson's mighty race。
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