in death.

His fall gave the signal for that of all Eric's army. Even those who
had not seen him fall, suddenly lost their courage and eagerness for the
battle, and retreated with uncertain steps, or ran in wild affright on
the spears of their enemies. At the same time Montfaucon was dispersing
Jarl Eric's cavalry, after a desperate conflict--had hurled their chief
from the saddle, and taken him prisoner with his own hand. Biorn of the
Fiery Eyes stood victorious in the middle of the field of battle. The
day was won.

CHAPTER 10

In sight of both armies, with glowing cheeks and looks of modest
humility, Sintram was conducted by the brave baron up the hill where
Gabrielle stood in all the lustre of her beauty. Both warriors bent the
knee before her, and Folko said, solemnly, "Lady, this valiant youth of
a noble race has deserved the reward of this day's victory. I pray you
let him receive it from your fair hand."

Gabrielle bowed courteously, took off her scarf of blue and gold, and
fastened it to a bright sword, which a page brought to her on a cushion
of cloth of silver. She then, with a smile, presented the noble gift to
Sintram, who was bending forward to receive it, when suddenly Gabrielle
drew back, and turning to Folko, said, "Noble baron, should not he on
whom I bestow a scarf and sword be first admitted into the order of
knighthood?" Light as a feather, Folko sprang up, and bowing low before
his lady, gave the youth the accolade with solemn earnestness. Then
Gabrielle buckled on his sword, saying, "For the honour of God and the
service of virtuous ladies, young knight. I saw you fight, I saw you
conquer, and my earnest prayers followed you. Fight and conquer often
again, as you have done this day, that the beams of your renown may
shine over my far-distant country." And at a sign from Folko, she
offered her tender lips for the new knight to kiss. Thrilling all over,
and full of a holy joy, Sintram arose in deep silence, and hot tears
streamed down his softened countenance, whilst the shout and the
trumpets of the assembled troops greeted the youth with stunning
applause. Old Rolf stood silently on one side, and as he looked in the
mild beaming eyes of his foster-child, he calmly and piously returned
thanks:

"The strife at length hath found its end,
Rich blessings now shall heaven send!
The evil foe is slain!"

Biorn and Jarl Eric had the while be