him ride his best horse, by way of doing him honour before all the people. With a noble train of _freilings_--that is, of free men--they set forth. "'The first day, however, they went no further than about a quarter of an hour from Harm's _ouden dorp_, to a sacrificial altar which was placed close by what was called the Deep Moor (Deepenbroock, the chronicle says). There Landolf was to be spectator of a terrible scene, which shows as well the frightful savageness and cruelty of the Saxons as their noble purity of manners. By about noon of the abovenamed day, all the free men of that whole region had gathered together at the altar of sacrifice. This altar consisted, as may still be seen by the so-called _stone-houses_ now standing, of eight slabs of granite, set up in a quadrangle; with four openings, or doors, towards the four quarters of the heaven, broad enough to let a man go through; and covered over on the top with another great granite block. The young warriors brought up two prisoners, who had been taken in a late campaign and fetched along. One of them was made to go under the sacrifice altar through the north and south doors, the other through the east and west doors. Then stepped forth two priests, having their long flowing hair bound with a mistletoe branch, and a sharp knife of flint in the hand. You must know that the mistletoe, which is still to be found in plenty in our woods, growing especially on birch trees, was held among our forefathers to be sacred. For since it does not grow upon the ground like other plants, but upon trees, birches particularly, it was believed that the seed of this plant fell down from heaven; and this belief was strengthened by the remarkable manner of its growth, so unlike other plants, with its forking opposite branches and shining white berries. After solemn prayers, which were half sung half said, to the two gods Woden and Thor, and the two goddesses Hela and Hertha, the captive men were one after the other laid each upon his back on the altar, so that his head hung down over the edge of the altar.'" "Oh, stop, Ditto!" cried Maggie. "Why?" "It is too horrible." "It is pretty horrible. But men did it, and men suffered it. Can't you hear it?" "Men were dreadful!" "Men _are_ dreadful where the light of the Gospel has not come. 'The dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty.'" "Tell me about those gods and goddesses." "Were those Saxon Druids?" Flora asked. "It sounds so. But I don't know the gods of the Teutons as well as I do those of the Greeks; I can't tell you much about Woden and Thor, Maggie. We'll look when we go home. Now, am I to go on?" "I suppose so. Oh yes, I want you to go on. But it is dreadful."