'Poor Weland!' sighed Una.

'He pushed the long hair back from his forehead (he didn't recognize me
at first). Then he said: "_You_ ought to know. You foretold it, Old
Thing. I'm shoeing horses for hire. I'm not even Weland now," he said.
"They call me Wayland-Smith."'

'Poor chap!' said Dan. 'What did you say?'

'What could I say? He looked up, with the horse's foot on his lap, and
he said, smiling, "I remember the time when I wouldn't have accepted
this old bag of bones as a sacrifice, and now I'm glad enough to shoe
him for a penny."

'"Isn't there any way for you to get back to Valhalla, or wherever you
come from?" I said.

'"I'm afraid not," he said, rasping away at the hoof. He had a wonderful
touch with horses. The old beast was whinnying on his shoulder. "You may
remember that I was not a gentle God in my Day and my Time and my Power.
I shall never be released till some human being truly wishes me well."

'"Surely," said I, "the farmer can't do less than that. You're shoeing
the horse all round for him."

'"Yes," said he, "and my nails will hold a shoe from one full moon to
the next. But farmers and Weald clay," said he, "are both uncommon cold
and sour."

'Would you believe it, that when that farmer woke and found his horse