As he raised his head, satisfied that she still lived, a grave, sweet voice sounded on his ear. He turned his eyes to where stood a beautiful woman in white and steel, one arm on the neck of her horse. It was the Walküre, who, according to her custom, came to warn the man who was shortly to be killed in battle. It grew still darker. [Illustration: THE WALKÜRE APPEARS] “Siegmund,” said the Walküre, “look on me! Soon you must follow me!” Siegmund, wondering, asked who she was. “Only those who are shortly to die may see my face,” answered Brünnhilde. “I bear them away to Wotan, in Walhalla. There you will find innumerable heroes who have died in battle. They will welcome you.” Siegmund asked if his father, Volse, were among the heroes. Brünnhilde answered “Yes.” Quietly the young warrior asked if his beautiful bride might accompany him. The Walküre slowly shook her head. “Lonely upon the earth she remains,” she answered. “Siegmund will see Sieglinde no more.” “Then greet Walhalla and the heroes for me,” said the Volsung; “for there I will follow you not.” “You have looked on the face of the Walküre,” said Brünnhilde. “You must die.” And, by degrees, she made him understand that death was awaiting him, that he was doomed to be killed by Hunding. In despair Siegmund raised Nothung, the sword, and declared that he would kill his wife and himself, so that they might be together in death. But Brünnhilde, who had felt her heart grow more and more tender towards this unhappy pair, started forward, bidding him hope, and declared that she would help him, instead of Hunding, in the combat, and save both himself and his wife. “I shall be with you in battle,” she promised; and she hurried away, leading her horse. It grew darker and darker. Storm-clouds were gathering, and the rocky gorge was filled with a dense, black shadow. In the distance came the sound of Hunding’s horn. Waving his sword, Siegmund sprang up the rocks to meet the enemy. Sieglinde, dreaming softly where her husband had left her, was awakened by a wild burst of thunder and lightning. She started up frantically, trying to see through the darkness. Clouds were all about her, veiling the rocks on every side. Hunding’s deep horn-call sounded nearer and nearer. Finally, from a high rock among the trees on the top of a wooded slope she could hear the voices of the combatants and the clash of weapons. Suddenly, in a vivid glare of lightning, Brünnhilde appeared among the clouds, stooping low over Siegmund, and protecting him with outstretched shield. Clear and strong rang out her voice over the tumult: “Be firm, Siegmund! Strike quickly.” But now Sieglinde, staring wildly up through the darkness, paralyzed with fright, saw a fierce crimson light—the light that heralded the approach of the angry King God—and Wotan stood revealed in the clouds above Hunding.