“Hush!” muttered Fafner. “Listen to me! Without Friea’s apples of youth the gods will grow old, and their glory will fade away. They will die like human beings if Friea be taken from them.” So the giants talked together, planning how to steal the lovely goddess, who stood aside trembling, fearing that Wotan would refuse to protect her from the two savage workmen. He meanwhile merely murmured softly to himself, “Logi is long coming,” and gazed expectantly about. But still the Fire God could not be seen. Thor and Froh, two other gods, had appeared. The giants were growing more impatient and Friea more despairing, when Logi at last arrived. When he did he talked on a variety of subjects before he would pay any attention to the affairs that were worrying the other gods and the giants. But at last he set his clever brain to work at some plan by which his fair sister Friea might be saved. Knowing well the love of wealth characteristic of the giants, he told the story of the Rhinegold and the stealing of it by the Nibelung. He said that he had heard the maids weeping for their lost treasure, and had promised them that Wotan, the King God, would return it to them in time. The two giants began to feel the same desire for it that Alberich had had, and to whisper together concerning it, so vividly did Logi describe its powers. “It seems,” muttered Fafner, “that this Gold is worth even more than Friea.” And he cried out suddenly: “Listen, Wotan, you wise one! We will give up Friea; but you will instead bestow upon us the Nibelung’s Gold.” “We will hold her meanwhile as ransom!” cried Fasolt. And they dragged her away, despite her piteous appeals, to Riesenheim (or Home of the Giants), leaving the gods perplexed and sorrowing for their lost goddess. As they stood silently together a mist seemed to steal upward from the ground, and floated between them. A strange shadow rested upon the faces of the gods. They looked pale and wrinkled; their hair was white. “Alas! What has happened?” wailed Fricka, faintly. The gods were growing old. “See, then,” said Logi, the shrewd one. “Our Youth Goddess has gone. We are old; we are gray. The race of gods will come to an end.” Wotan started and looked about him. His face was pale. “Down, Logi! Let us go down to Nibelheim!” he cried. “The Gold shall be had for ransom.” The gods called out good wishes after them through the mist, and Wotan, the King God, and his fire-servant, Logi, went down through the hollow, shadowy passages under the earth to Nibelheim, the home of the dwarfs. [Music: Ring Motif] [Music: Nibelung Motif] CHAPTER III NIBELHEIM