"The storks are come," was said in the great house on the
banks of the Nile, where the lord lay in the hall on his downy
cushions, covered with a leopard skin, scarcely alive, yet not
dead, waiting and hoping for the lotus-flower from the deep
moorland in the far north. Relatives and servants were standing by
his couch, when the two beautiful swans who had come with the
storks flew into the hall. They threw off their soft white plumage,
and two lovely female forms approached the pale, sick old man, and
threw back their long hair, and when Helga bent over her
grandfather, redness came back to his cheeks, his eyes brightened,
and life returned to his benumbed limbs. The old man rose up with
health and energy renewed; daughter and grandchild welcomed him as
joyfully as if with a m
