watched by her cruel
husband, Signy could lend no aid to the prisoners, but when none but
Sigmund, the youngest, was left, she directed a slave to smear his
face with honey. The wild beast, attracted by the sweet odor, licked
the face of the last prisoner, who, thus enabled to catch its tongue
between his teeth, struggled with the beast until his bonds broke and
he was free!

When Siggier sent to investigate as usual the next morning, his
messenger reported no prisoners were left bound to the tree and that
only a heap of bones was visible. Sure his foes were all dead, Siggier
ceased to watch his wife, who, stealing out into the forest to bury
the remains of her kin, discovered Sigmund in a thicket, and promised
to aid him to obtain his revenge. To redeem this promise she sent to
her brother, one after another, two of her sons to be trained as
avengers, but, as both of these children proved deficient in courage,
she came to the conclusion none but a pure-blooded Volsung would meet
their requirements. To secure an offspring of this strain, Signy,
disguised as a gypsy, secretly visited her brother's hut, and when
their child, Sinfiotli, was older, sent him to Sigmund to foster and
train.

With a youthful helper whom nothing could daunt, Sigmund, after
achieving sundry adventures, lay in wait in Siggier's cellar, but,
warned by two of his young children that murderers were hiding behind
his casks, Siggier had them seized and cast into separate cells. There
he decreed they should starve to death. But, before their prison was
closed, Signy cast into it a bundle of straw, wherein she had
concealed Balmung, the magic sword. Thanks to this weapon, Sigmund and
Sinfiotli not only hewed their way out of their separate prisons, but
slew all the Goths who attempted to escape from Siggier's dwelling,
which they set aflame. But, although both proposed to save Signy, she
merely stepped out of the house long enough to reveal Sinfiotli's
origin and bade them farewell, ere she plunged back into the flames!

And then King Siggier's roof-tree upheaved for its utmost fall,
And its huge walls clashed together, and its mean and lowly things
The fire of death confounded with the tokens of the kings.
A sign for many people on the land of the Goths it lay,
A lamp of the earth none needed, for the bright sun brought the day.

Feeling he had done his duty by avenging his father's and brothers'
death, Sigmund now returned home, where i