"Sad is the picture that I see. The stranger has brought me rich presents, although the largest vase is only silver-gilt, and no praiseworthy gift to the King of a great nation. Yet I should be unwilling to lose the other gifts of which he speaks; and the Roman will not give them to me if I do not deliver yonder man to him, living, or perhaps dead. But if I bring this ill deed upon my life, and hand him over to his enemies, I shall become an object of horror to all nations, as a hireling of the foreigner, because I gave over a guest-friend to a dishonorable death. Besides, I am also sorry for the fellow; for he is a good-hearted and honorable, and a faithful comrade at the cup an on horseback. On the other hand, if I keep him in spite of the Romans, I am threatened with destructive work on my boundary; the war will perhaps deprive me of my treasures, diminish the strength of the people, and shake my throne." His look fell upon a sword, which hung over the shining metal on the wall. "This is the regal weapon of my race, renowned in song, and feared among the people; many a heavy deed has it done: according to tradition, a God once hammered at the steel; I am surprised that now I can not turn my eyes from it." And sighing, he continued: "I have drunk with him, hunted and fought by his side, and I wish that his end may be glorious like that of his father, who hastened to receive the death-wound on his breast. If I can not save him, I will at least show him a King's honor."

The King rose, and seized the weapon. Then he felt his arm gently laid hold of; he shrank back, and drew the sword. Before him stood Queen Gisela, who looked at him mockingly. "Will the King go to the field with his table vessels, as he reviews them like an army?"

"Where does the King's power lie, if not in his treasures?" retorted the King, angrily. "How can I hold fast covetous minds, and win their fealty, if I do not distribute the foreign metal among them? There is little enough of it in my country, and all ask for it: where shall I get it, if I do not obtain it from the foreigner?"

"Does the King wish to bargain with the Romans about this man?" asked the Queen, her eyes flaming with fire.

"Should I hesitate if I meant to do it?" murmured the King. "But this stranger sits like an owl upon my trees; all the birds of the air shout at and scream against him. Not long ago the kings of the Oder also sent to demand his person."

"Thou dost not deceive me," broke forth the Queen, with fierce anger. "See to it, oh King! if thou canst live after such shame, I will not. To the perjured wretch, who sells his sworn comrade for Roman gold, I refuse all companionship at table and bed."

The King looked askance at Gisela. "Thy thoughts storm violently; they miss the mark."

"Who is more zealous for the King's honor than the Queen?" answered the woman, striving for composure. "If thou dost not venture to keep him from the Romans, let him go from thy court. It is better to show thyself weak than faithless."

"In order that after such an indignity he may live as my enemy?" said the King.

"Bind him, then, by a high oath; he is, as I think, one of those who keep their oaths."

"Will the Queen so persuade him that he will never think of the indignity?" asked the lord of the castle, watching her suspiciously.

"I will," replied Gisela, with a faltering voice, "if it is useful to the King."

They stood opposite to each other, with dark thoughts. At last the King began. "In time of danger quick deeds are useful. Make a trial, Gisela; send him a message this evening, asking him to a secret conference in thy tower. Perhaps thou mayest help him there to a good departure."

The Queen looked down; her face was pallid as she answered, "I will advise him to depart, as thou commandest it." She turned quickly from the King, and he looked after her gloomily.

In the evening the Queen was waiting in her apartment in the tower; the night-songsters sat on the wall, and lamented over the evil which was preparing for some one; the wax tapers flickered under the sharp gusts of air which penetrated through the open window, and shifted the shadow of the beautiful woman here and there on the wall. Queen Gisela stood in the middle of the room in festive attire, her red diadem upon her brow, her pale head bent forward, and her hands clenched fast, as if for some violent deed. "If thou depart from here, Ingo, it will be a pain to me worse than death; and if thou remain, then, of three who live here, there will be one too many." She shrank within herself, and listened again; from below there sounded a murmur of voices and a slight clash of weapons. Then she tore the taper from the high candlestick, and held it out of the window, so that the smoke and the glaring flame floated over the battlements of the tower, and the owls flew away frightened. A few minutes afterward a single hunting-call answered from the distance; the Queen took the light back, and pushed the tapestry before the opening of the window.

A man's step sounded on the stone staircase. "It is he," she said in a low tone. But when the door opened, she started back, for King Bisino entered. His countenance was gloomy, his robust body was covered with a coat of mail, his head with a steel cap; on the handle of his sword a blood-red jewel gleamed in the light. "The Queen is attired as if for a high festival," he said, angrily.

"Thou didst wish it."

"I will also be an invisible witness of thy conference with him, that thou mayest say all that I have commanded. Listen to this warning: at the foot of the tower tarry two of my boys with hard hands; if he descend without me, he will not pass the threshold alive."

"The King is truly careful," answered Frau Gisela, motionless. Then her look fell upon the King's sword, and she cried out: "The stone on the King's knife shines bloodily; it is the death-weapon of thine ancestors." With difficulty mastering her terror, she continued: "From the apartment of the Queen, formerly, men's swords were excluded. Why has the King transgressed my rights?"

"It is only foresight, Gisela," replied the King, grimly. He walked to the end of the room, opened a little side door, and disappeared behind it.

The Queen stood again alone, and her thoughts were in wild tumult. "The King in his lurking-place meditates an act of violence, and I shall be the helper of an unworthy deed."

Then the step of another sounded outside, and Ingo entered, without armor or a sword. "I thank thee, cousin Gisela," he began cordially, "for having today opened thy tower to me." He looked at the splendid room, at the embroidered tapestry on the wall, and costly articles from foreign lands. "Since I lost my mother, I have never entered the state-chamber of a Queen. Why dost thou stand so solemnly, cousin?" he continued, sorrowfully: "Forgive me if I do not rejoice, as I ought, in the honor thou doest me in receiving the poor Ingo in Queen's attire." He seized her hand; in spite of her anguish a bright color passed over her pale countenance, as she drew her hand back.

"The entrance to the Queen's chamber is easier than the passage out of the tower door," she said, in a low tone.

"I saw the King's boys lurking about," said Ingo, "and that does not surprise me, for I know that the mind of the King, who was formerly kind to me, has been excited against me by Harietto; therefore I beg thee to take care, as far as thou canst, that no shame may befall me. I am weary, Queen, of my earthly lot; I have given offense to every guest-friend --- miserable everywhere, like a mad wolf, hunted from court to court. Such a life is contemptible, for I feel I am worthy of a better fate; and I myself mean to take care that I shall not be bound, as a living man, by Roman fetters. But if thou canst not avert my fate, then, I pray thee, preserve my blood-comrades --- the wandering band --- from an inglorious death. Gladly would they fight against any one, whoever it might be; but they fear a destruction which may approach them invisibly, for we are fast hemmed in between stone walls."

The Queen fixed her eyes, speechless, on the concealed door; suddenly she gave a violent scream, for the King came out, and exclaimed, "Thou hast caged thyself for thy last wound!" With raised sword the King rushed against Ingo, but Gisela sprang like a lioness between them, turning away his arm, so that the sword fell clattering to the floor. Ingo seized the weapon, and, brandishing it, exclaimed: "Thy life is in my hand, King Bisino! Little would thine armor avail thee, if I did by thee as thou hast thought of doing by me. Thank the god in whom thou trustest that the guest-oath is more sacred to me than to thee." And he threw the King's weapon before his feet. A slight sound, like the groaning of a woman, was heard in the room.

The King looked wildly around him. "Thou speakest like a man; come, then, take thy sword from the steps; we will fight."

"I have sworn peace to thee," answered Ingo, immovable.

"And I to thee," replied the King. "The oath is broken; thou art free: raise thy weapon."

"I will not fight against thee for my life," replied Ingo; "thy royal head is sacred to me, even though thou hast intended evil by me. And never will I cause the reputation of thy wife to be dishonored by shedding thy blood or mine before her couch. If I must be killed, I do not complain if thou do it thyself; strike, then, oh King, and thanks to thee for thy guest-present."

As the King bent down to raise his sword, there was a sound from below of clamor and war-cries, and Ingo hastened out. "Curse upon me, I have forgotten the danger of my comrades in my own. I hear the song of my swans; I come. And thou, King, beware; I shall find that which will compel thee." With stormy haste he burst out of the door, and the King whispered hoarsely, "Those who await him know not compassion;" and he hastened after him with brandished sword.

But Ingo sprang down only a few steps, to where he had left his sword, then down to the chamber of the young son, who slept with the Hero Balda, beneath the apartment of the Queen. He caught up the child from his bed, pressed him in his arms, and whispered to him, "Help me, Hermin! I am threatened with destruction; I will do thee no harm, if my comrades are not injured by the King."

The boy hung sleepily against his arm, and clasped him round the neck. "I will willingly help thee, cousin," he said, unsuspiciously. Before the old warrior could rise from his bed, Ingo carried the boy to the Queen's door, where the King sprang toward him with his sword. But Bisino drew back dismayed, when he perceived his child under Ingo's knife. "Go forward, King Bisino," cried out Ingo, imperatively; "prepare the way for me; I hold what compels thee. The life of thy boy is surety for the heads of mine. Farewell, Queen; pray to the gods that the King's house may not be shattered this night!"

The men hastened down the stone steps. Gisela listened motionless to the noise at the foot of the stairs. Did she wish that he should escape, who had pledged the life of her son? Whether he himself would return to her room in the tower, or the King, or neither of them, were the thoughts that stormed through her soul; she felt hatred against him who did not desire her help, and yet burning anguish about his life, and fear about the return of the King. She sprang to the window, and looked out into the darkness. She heard distant muttering and shrill cries, then all became still; she saw a glimmering of light, but it also was extinguished; the night remained dark and uncertain, like her own fate. Ingo stood on the last step before the door of the tower. "Drive away thy hounds, oh King, that their teeth may not touch thy son." The King stepped forward unwillingly, and waved away his watchers. Ingo sprang forward, past him, like a flying stag, to the apartment of his men. The King could not keep up with him, however much he hastened.

About the dwelling stood the bands of the King's boys, armed with shield and spear, many also with torches in their hands. On the ground in front of the steps blazed a red flame, throwing an uncertain light into the dark room, and on the wild faces of the Vandals. "Why do the screech-owls blink in the light, and turn their looks downward?" cried out Berthar from the steps. "I wonder that the King's boys are afraid of the base work; they are, as I hear, accustomed to kill by night. They are considered quite shameless among the people. Are they afraid that my sword should strike the brand of their torch-bearer? Approach nearer, ye good-for-nothing cowards, that ye may be cursed before all people as peace-breakers. Come on, that my boys may prepare you for your last journey."