Alberich had forged a Ring from the Rhinegold, and, wearing it, possessed absolute power over the rest of the Nibelungs. He was the King Dwarf, ruler over all Nibelheim, the Land of Gloom. Ah! what a land of gloom it was! Through the dark shadows there streamed fitfully a lurid light from the forges where the dwarfs were working; their hammers clanged monotonously on the anvils. Slowly they laid the results of their toil in great heaps, and Alberich laughed at their weariness and gloated over the treasures, which he promptly claimed as his own. Among the Nibelungs was one particularly crooked and ill-shapen, named Mime. He was Alberich’s half-brother, and, not unnaturally, hated the Black King with all his strength; for Alberich treated him even more cruelly than the others. Mime, at Alberich’s command, made a wonderful cap of darkness out of some of the Rhinegold, which not only had the power of making its wearer invisible at will, but could change him into whatever shape he wished. This Alberich wore, and changed himself into a column of mist, in which shape he found he could move about much faster, and make things much harder for the dwarfs. “Hohei, all you Nibelungs! Kneel to your King! Now he is everywhere, all about you, unseen, but felt and heard, you idlers!” And the column of mist drifted off through a rocky passage, leaving Mime whimpering upon the ground. Now, with the clang of the hammers there mingled the sound of steps, and from the black crevice in the rocks came two figures slowly down to Nibelheim. One was tall and majestic, with a helmet of gold and steel, a long cloak with strange designs upon it, and a deep golden beard that hung far down over his breast; one of his eyes was missing, and in his hand he bore a great spear. The other was clothed in brilliant red, his eyes were bright, his step swift as a springing flame in dead grass. They were Wotan and Logi searching for the Rhinegold. Logi accosted Mime in friendly fashion, and asked what was wrong with him. “That wretch, my brother!” grumbled the Dwarf. “He treats us all cruelly. Leave me in peace!” “How came Alberich by his power?” asked the Fire God. “From the ruddy Rhinegold he made a Ring. With it he rules us. But,” asked the Nibelung, staring at them, “who are you both?” “Friends that perhaps may free the Nibelung people,” laughed Logi, and at the same time Alberich appeared, scolding, screaming, and ill-treating all who came in his way. Driving Mime away with the rest of the dwarfs, he, scowling, asked the two gods what they wished. “We heard of the wonders worked by Alberich,” answered Wotan. “We come to behold them.” “Pooh! I know you well,” said the Dwarf King. “Such notable guests”—and he sneered—“could only have been led by envy to Nibelheim.” “Surely you know me,” said Logi. “I have lit your forges, gnome. Cannot you trust me?” “To be sure I know you,” grinned Alberich. “And I will always trust you to be untrustworthy. I don’t fear you.”