Stag Hall. When I said that they no longer came there, for
sheer delight she loosed from her own waist the beautiful blue girdle
she always wore, and gave it to me. See, there it is. I always carry it
hidden in my blouse. And, Bruna, didn't she once kiss you between the
eyes, when I told her how you had sprung to Adalo's assistance in the
chase and torn the furious wild bull which was goring his horse? Yes,
Bruna, you are faithful to her too. You have trotted after us for hours
when we were gathering berries and mushrooms, and watched our noonday
nap."

Just at that moment a long-drawn blast of a horn echoed from the summit
of the mountain. Adalo started up.

"The Duke is calling. We are to consult about what is to be proposed in
the people's council. Zercho, come with me. He wishes to question you
about the number of the enemy's mounted men. You, Sippilo, take care of
Mother Waldrun; that is all you can do for your Bissula."

"For the present," said the boy looking after his brother. "But I will
take part in storming the camp fortress where the scoundrels hold
captive the prettiest little bird--little gold-crested wren, no, little
redbreast--in the land of the Alemanni." He raised his clenched fist
threateningly.

CHAPTER XIX.

Outside of the Duke's tent also a huge fire was blazing, fed by slaves
who were roasting on the ends of poles the haunches and back of a
freshly killed stag. Adalo passed by, motioning to Zercho to wait,
parted the sailcloth stretched over the wooden frame of the tent, and
entered.

The roof was formed of interwoven pine branches; against the poles of
the light timberwork hung and rested everywhere weapons of all kinds.
Skins covered the turf floor which, opposite to the entrance, was
raised until it formed a high seat; a curtain of heavy linen hung
behind it, dividing from the front of the tent a small space used for a
sleeping room. In the centre stood an iron tripod, running to a point
at the top, into which was screwed a burning pine-torch that diffused a
dim, flickering red light.

On the fur-covered high seat, with his back resting against the main
column of the tent, sat Duke Hariowald. He greeted his young kinsman
only by a glance and seemed to heed nothing except the eager words of
another guest, a man about forty years old, who, clad in a boarskin and
wearing on his head a "boar helm" with the animal's tusks, sat at his
right.

The old Duke,