But the masters in the house observed after a few weeks that it was difficult to keep the peace among their followers; for the young men were proud and hasty in their anger, and the old watched jealously the honor of their masters. Thus Radgai the Vandal, and Agino, a wild fellow of the house, quarreled with one another, because the Vandal had given an ornament to a maiden of the village who smiled upon him. On account of this Agino was displeased, and said, mockingly, "We had thought that the treasure of thy master was small, but now we see that you keep good things in your bags."

"He who ventures his life in battle," answered the Vandal, "puts money in his pocket, but horn grows upon the hand of him who, like thee, works on the threshing-floor."

This speech was heard by the people of the house, and when the next morning Berthar came with his men to the granary, in order to fetch oats for the horses for the following days, Hildebrand, who was the distributor in the farm, refused him the threshed oats, and said:

"If you have despised the callous hands of our boys, you may stamp out the sheaves with your own feet, or with those of your horses, as suits you best; my comrades refuse to work for you, as you speak so roughly to them. Take the oats in sheaves, and not in sacks."

Berthar answered in an appeasing tone:

"It was wrong in my comrades to despise the customs of our host's country. But thou thyself art a traveled man, and knowest that customs differ in various countries. Elsewhere the master's followers lift the sheaves in baskets; they cut and winnow the fodder, and ride about the field with the harrow; but it would be considered inglorious for them to hold the plow-tail and the flail. Therefore have a little forbearance with my comrades, because they, as strangers, are surprised at your customs."

But Hildebrand answered ill-temperedly:

"Those who eat of our bread should accommodate themselves to our customs; therefore take only the sheaves; from henceforth thou shalt receive nothing else."

Then the Vandals were obliged to take the sheaves to their stalls, and Berthar ordered fiercely, "Throw the sheaves on the chopping-bench, and cut till the iron breaks."

After that unwise speech of Radgai's there were many quarrels among the men, but both parties endeavored to conceal it from their masters. They had in the first instance stood in the same ranks at the war-games, and imitated each other's style of fighting, as the Princes advised them; now they entered separately into the contests, so that the Prince, before the beginning of the riding-games with shield and staves, said to Theodulf: "Why do the guests keep aloof on their horses? we should be glad to see who deserves the most praise." Theodulf answered: "They themselves wish to avoid the contest; the staves of the Thuringians sound too hard on their shields." Then the Prince rode up to Berthar. "Come Hero, mix thy ranks with our people." The old man answered: "It is only for the sake of peace that I keep our boys separate, lest in the heat of the struggle an ill-thrown staff should excite a quarrel." So the Prince was unwillingly obliged to watch the separate exercises in horsemanship. Nor could he help hearing how his retinue laughed scornfully when the strangers threw their clubs; then a saucy fellow out of the ranks of the Thuringians cried out a tormenting word of insult: "Dog slayer." On the other hand, when the retinue sprang with the throw of the stone, and one of their springs failed, then the Vandals made wry faces, and muttered a mocking word which they had fabricated, because the Thuringians at their meals had highly esteemed round balls made of wheaten dough.

When, after the games, the circular dances began, one could see that the maidens of the household only associated themselves with their own countrymen; and when the strangers could not find a village girl who would dance with them, they were obliged to look on. This displeased the Prince, and he called out to the Vandals: "Why do my guests despise my people?" Again Berthar answered: "The maidens of the country complain that our springs twist their ankles." Then the fearless Frida stepped forth, bowed low to the old man, and said: "I care little whether I displease others when I take the hand of a stranger. For I know one of the household who threatens the maidens if they dance with the guests. If it pleaseth thee, Hero Berthar, and thou dost not think me too insignificant, lead me to the dance." Berthar laughed, as did also the Prince; the old man took the hand of the maiden, sprang about like a youth, and swung her actively over the turf, so that all looked at him and made exclamations of approbation.

The strangers saw well that the Princess did not hold them in much consideration; she seldom spoke even to the noblest among them --- not even to the Hero Berthar, although he was of noble race. But the Princess had also some ground for complaint, for two of the Vandals --- the brothers Alebrand and Walbrand --- had exchanged sharp words with two of the Princess's maidens, and, lying in wait in the evening, had kissed them against their will, and had tumbled their dress. Therefore the Princess went to Ingo, and raised a loud complaint of the profligacy of his men, and Ingo, deeply vexed by the hard words of the Princess and the ill-conduct of his followers, held a court of justice over the guilty ones at his own house. And although it appeared on examination that it was more wantonness than vice, he punished them severely, both by words and social disgrace, putting them down in the lowest place on his bench: sorrowfully did the evil-doers sit after that in the circle of their companions. When Ingo once before this was returning to the hearth of the Prince from his own quarters, he heard in the new building near it the sharp grating of the millstone, and, much astonished, he asked Berthar: "Do the maidens turn the millstone in the sleeping-house of the men?"

Then answered the old man: "As thou thyself askest, thou shalt know. It is not the servant-maids that are turning it; thy boys are obliged to do the inglorious work of serving-women, if they would have any bread; for the maidens refuse any longer to grind the corn for us, and the hostess yields to them. Bitter is such work for heroes of a King. I would gladly have concealed from thee what is a dishonor to thy hospitable friend."

Ingo stepped behind a pillar, and covered his face with his hands. Outside howled the north-storm round the roof, throwing a gray covering of snow and frozen water over the house.

"An unpliant fellow rages above the rafters of the house," continued Berthar; "he now rules over the roads and fields, and may prevent the departure of my King from this place. Yet I suspect that thou thinkest thereof; therefore hear something that the Hero Isanbart, my old war-companion confided to me when I yesterday secretly sought him. The Roman trader, Tertullus, was in the district with his pack-horses; he came from the West, and was going to the Castle of the King. Thou knowest the man; he is considered by the Allemanns as the most cunning spy of Cæsar. Now he has avoided the abode in which we dwell, although the property on which we are staying would be the best market for a merchant. But throughout the district he has inquired concerning thee and us, and has held hostile language --- that Cæsar seeks for thee, and would pay a high price if he could look upon thy body or thy head under his banner, in order that the evil omen may be destroyed which, since thy seizure of the dragon, has hung heavy on the hearts of the Roman warriors. If the Roman trader goes to King Bisino, he conceals in his chest rather presents to the King than wares; for he was in no haste to untie his bundle, as is usually the manner of these people. Therefore the Hero Isanbart is full of anxiety, and sends thee warning, that thou mayest trust a message from the King less than before."

Ingo laid his hand on the shoulder of his trusty friend:

"But thou also, Hero, wouldst rather ride into the trap which the King prepares for us than endure to hear any longer this grinding of the millstone by which a hostile woman wounds our honor. Yet I am held here fast as by an iron band. For this grievance I will beg for redress from the Prince, but I will not leave the district before I know something which I most eagerly wish and hope for."

When Answald, the next morning, was sitting at breakfast with his companions, without the stranger, the door opened, and Irmgard stood on the threshold; behind her Frida was carrying a sack of flour. "Forgive me, my lord," began Irmgard, "if I venture to offer thee what the hand of thy daughter has helped to grind at the millstone." The noble maiden placed the sack at the feet of the Prince. The Prince looked at it in astonishment.

"What does this powdery gift mean? Is it to be a cake-offering to the gods, because the hands of a noble maiden have turned the stone?"

"Not as an offering," replied Irmgard, "but as an expiation for wounded duties of hospitality our free hands ground the corn. I beg that thou, my lord, if it seems right to thee, wilt send this flour to thy guests; for I hear that thy household refuse them both the flour for broth and bread, and the noble guests are obliged, under thy roof itself, to do the work themselves, like serving-maids."

Then the veins in the Prince's forehead swelled, and, rising, he called in a loud voice, "Who has done me this dishonor? Speak, Hildebrand, for thou hast charge of the repasts of the guests."

Hildebrand, embarrassed, bowed before the anger of his Prince. "The maidens were embittered by the unseemly conduct of the Vandals, and wept over the hard work, and the Princess thought that they had ground of complaint."

"How couldst thou retaliate the unseemly conduct of a few by imposing heavy suffering upon all? Thou hast dishonored thy lord before his guests, and caused evil reports among the people. Take the sack at once, and carry it to the lodgings of the guests; and I advise thee, old man, to go with it, and make them such excuses as they may be willing to accept. But to the maidens I say, if in future they should ever complain, a hard hand will cause them greater sobbing."

"Be not angry with the maidens, my lord," said Irmgard; "they are usually willing, and would have borne the increased work; but there is one in thy house who has the audacity to order about the servants like a master: this is thy swordbearer, Theodulf. Many fear his hard nature, and are anxious, either now or in the future, to gain his favor. He forbids the maidens, at his pleasure, to work for the guests, and also to dance with them. No one ventures to complain to thee; but I as thy daughter can not bear that in my father's house one who is a servant should injure our honor."

When the Prince learned this, he bethought him that his child was right, and yet felt a secret anxiety, because the maiden who now stood so angrily before him, spoke with such contempt of the man whom he secretly had destined for her husband. He therefore became wild with anger against all and exclaimed to his daughter, "Not in vain hast thou turned the mill; with hard stone do thy words grind the character of thy cousin. Yet I do not blame thy gift, for it may perhaps atone for a heavy injury. But thou," he exclaimed, raising his hand threateningly against Theodulf, "forget not that I am sole master in this house as long as I live, so that I may not forget that the mistress of the houses wishes thee well. If any of you dare to use hostile language or secret malice against the guests, this house and his skin will become too narrow for him."

Answald sent all out, and continued to vex himself alone. At last he went to the Princess, and spoke to her also angry words, and little praise of her nephew, Theodulf. Gundren changed color; she saw well that she had ventured too much, and that her husband was with good reason anxious about evil reports, and she spoke to him appeasingly:

"What has happened with the maidens ought to be a warning for the strangers, that they also may respect the rights of the house; it is now arranged, and will in the future be avoided; therefore do not thou care further about it. As to what concerns my relation, thou knowest well how truly he has served thee, and that on thy account he bears his scar." When she had succeeded in pacifying her lord a little, she continued:

"How free from anxiety did all appear in house and field a few months ago; but now peace has disappeared from the house, there is discord in the country, and the anger of the King threatens us with difficulties. A distinguished man is thy guest, but misfortune follows his footsteps. I think of thy daughter, my lord; she prays that her marriage with Theodulf may be given up. The mind of the child raises itself against the will of her parents."