"Nay, if thou dost not guess it," he answered almost angrily, "I cannot tell thee. But now I must go and forge some new arrow-points in the smithy. First give me one more kiss--there! And now let me kiss each of thine eyes, and thy fair hair. Good-bye, dear sister, until supper-time." He left her and ran to a side building, before the door of which stood a grind-stone and various implements. Gotho rested her cheek upon her hand, and looked thoughtful. Then she said aloud: "I cannot guess it; for of course he would take me with him. We could not live apart." She rose with a slight sigh, and went to a field near the house, to look after the linen which was lying there bleaching. But now old Iffa rose from his seat behind the open window, where he had heard all that had passed. "This will not do," he cried, rubbing his head hard. "I never yet had the heart to separate the children--for they were but children! I always waited and waited; and now I think I have put it off a little too long. Away with thee, young Adalgoth!" He left the dwelling-house, and walked slowly to the smithy. He found the boy working busily. With puffed-out cheeks, he blew into the fire on the hearth, and held the already roughly-prepared arrow-points in it, in order to make them red-hot and fit for the hammer. Then he took them out with a pair of pincers, laid them on an anvil, and hammered out neat points and hooks. Without pausing in his work, he nodded silently to his grandfather, striking sturdily upon the anvil till the sparks flew. "Well," thought the old man, "just now, at least, he thinks of nothing but arrows and iron." But suddenly the young smith finished his work with a tremendous stroke, threw away the hammer, passed his hand across his hot forehead, and asked, turning sharply to the old man: "Grandfather, where do men come from?" "Jesus, Woden, and Maria!" exclaimed the old man, starting back. "Boy, how comest thou to such thoughts?" "The thoughts come to me, not I to them. I mean the first men--the very first. That tall Hermegisel over there in Teriolis, who ran away from the Arian church at Verona, and can read and write, says that the Christian God made a man in a garden out of clay, and, while he slept, took one of his ribs and made a woman. That is ridiculous; for out of the longest rib that ever was, one could not make ever so small a girl."