SHORTLY after this Hagen came one day to the king, and said: “As long as Siegfried lives, there is naught that will appease the wrath of Brunhilde, or make her cease to weep. If you would have peace for yourself and would win the queen’s love, it must be by Siegfried’s death.”

“But I cannot slay him, Hagen,” answered Gunther, sadly; “he is my friend, and also my brother, and I cannot do such a treacherous thing.”

“There is no need for you to perform the deed yourself. Only consent to having Siegfried killed, and another hand than yours will carry it out. It is useless to try and pacify the queen so long as Siegfried lives to arouse daily her jealous wrath. Consent, therefore, to his death,” urged Hagen, “and I myself will slay him and take all the burden of the guilt upon my shoulders.”

For many hours he talked with the king, working upon a weak will and unsteady purpose, and rousing in Gunther the jealous fear that Siegfried would play him false. There seemed, indeed, only one way out of the difficulty, and at last Gunther consented to Hagen’s wish and promised to aid him in carrying out his plans.

“If I cannot win Brunhilde’s love except by Siegfried’s death, then he had better die,” cried the king; “for there is ever raging in my ears the queen’s words: ‘Never will I live to be mocked by Kriemhild. This thing must be ended by Siegfried’s death, or my death, or yours. Would that I were again in Odin’s hall—a shield-maiden starting for battle or returning with my weapons stained with red blood.’ Do what you will then, my uncle, for I would lay down my life to win Brunhilde’s love.”

Having won over the king, Hagen went away, determined to avenge Brunhilde’s wrongs and rid the kingdom of one whom he had long feared and hated. His plans were then quickly made. He remembered that he had often heard it whispered about the palace that some magic charm kept Siegfried from ever being wounded in battle, since no weapon had the power to harm him. So before he could carry out his plans, he must learn with certainty whether the report was true or false. There was but one person who would be likely to know this; and accordingly on a certain day when Siegfried had gone hunting with the king, Hagen went to Kriemhild, and seating himself beside her he inquired kindly if she were very happy as the wife of Siegfried. Kriemhild looked surprised at this unexpected visit from her uncle, for he seldom took any notice of her; but she thought that he was prompted to a show of interest in her by his fondness for Siegfried. So she welcomed him gladly and answered his question in a way to settle all doubts concerning her happiness, had her uncle really felt any friendly interest. Hagen smiled at her reply, and said,—

“Then what will you do if Siegfried is wounded in battle, and brought home dead upon his shield?”

“That cannot happen,” answered Kriemhild, betrayed into further confidence by Hagen’s seemingly affectionate concern.

“But such things do happen, even to the bravest warrior,” persisted Hagen, “unless it be true, as I have sometimes heard, that Siegfried is invulnerable.”

Not dreaming of his purpose in asking this question, Kriemhild proudly replied, “It is indeed true, and that is why I have no fears when my lord goes to battle.”

“Was this great gift from Odin?” asked Hagen.

Now Kriemhild knew that Siegfried had forbidden her to speak of this matter to any one, but she thought there could surely be no harm in revealing the secret to one so devoted and loyal as her uncle, so she told Hagen all about the slaying of Fafnir. She said also that Siegfried had been bathed in the dragon’s blood, and that this was supposed to render him invulnerable.

“Was he completely covered by the stream of blood?” asked Hagen, with great interest.

“Yes,” answered Kriemhild, “he was bathed from head to foot, except one small spot upon his shoulder, on which a leaf happened to fall.”

“Are you not afraid that he may be struck in that place by a spear or arrow, and so meet his death?”

“It might indeed be so,” said Kriemhild, “but I do not fear it.”

“Still,” persisted Hagen, “it would be well to have some one always near Siegfried in battle, to guard him against any death-blow, and since I alone know of his point of weakness, let me be the one to protect him. This service I shall be better able to render if you will sew a mark upon his coat over the exact spot on his shoulder where the leaf fell, so that when we are beset by enemies upon the road, or go forth to battle, I may keep beside him and shield him from a possible death blow.”

Kriemhild was greatly moved by this evidence of loyalty in Hagen, and thanking him warmly for his devotion, she promised to sew upon Siegfried’s coat some mark by which the vulnerable spot could be known. Then she hurried away to begin her task, not dreaming of Hagen’s wicked purpose in obtaining her secret. Some days later Hagen proposed that there should be a great hunt given in one of the neighbouring forests, and Gunther, who had promised to aid him in his plans, urged Siegfried to accompany them. Siegfried gladly consented, for he had greatly enjoyed this sport since his first coming to Burgundy, and had spent many a pleasant hour with Gunther and his knights in search of deer or fox, or the fierce wild boar. In all of these expeditions he had been foremost in the hunt, and had usually borne off the prize, both in the size and number of his game. His spear was sharp, and shone brightly as he rode along, mounted on the faithful Greyfel, and his aim was so quick and sure that his weapon never missed its mark, but went straight to the heart of the beast he was pursuing. This superiority in the chase added much to Hagen’s anger and jealousy, for as Siegfried had proved himself the greatest of warriors on the battle-field, so in the hunt he was the peer of all the knights of Burgundy.

A day was set for the great hunt, and a forest was chosen which was famous for the number and fierceness of its wild beasts. Then early one morning Gunther, Hagen and Siegfried set forth with their knights, in full expectation of having a profitable as well as exciting day. It was a beautiful morning in early spring, and the spirits of the hunting party rose high as they cantered out of the city gates and made their way toward the forest.

Siegfried rode ahead of the party, with Gunther and Hagen beside him. His suit was of royal purple, embroidered richly by Kriemhild’s loving fingers, and his spear shone bright in the sunlight as he galloped along, light-hearted and unsuspicious of the black thoughts which were harboured in Hagen’s wicked heart. He looked so brave and joyous, so beautiful as a youth and so gallant as a knight, that all the warriors in Gunther’s train said among themselves that no one in Burgundy was fit to be compared to Siegfried.

These remarks soon came to Hagen’s ears, and hardened him in his determination to slay this foreign prince whom all his own countrymen would so gladly make their king in place of the weak and unwarlike Gunther. He hid this feeling, however, and kept close to Siegfried’s side, looking eagerly for the spot upon his shoulder where the loving but foolish Kriemhild had sewed the fatal mark.

The hunting party soon came to the edge of the forest, where they divided into three groups. Each leader took with him a party of followers, and they set out in different directions, with the agreement that when the sun was overhead they should meet at a well-known place where Gunther had arranged that their dinner was to be set out. Siegfried galloped away, and a greater part of the knights followed him. Hagen saw this and frowned darkly, but he said nothing, only waited for Siegfried to get out of sight. Then he whispered to the king:—

“To-day is the day for our deed. This must be the last time that your friend Siegfried flaunts his superiority over the king.”

Gunther trembled and answered weakly:—

“Must it be done, Hagen? Is there no other way to rid our kingdom of him?”

“No way but by his death,” replied Hagen, firmly; then he added: “and do not you give way to foolish fancies, or my plans may fail. I have no womanish scruples, and Siegfried must die to-day.”

Not wishing to have it appear that anything unusual was in preparation, Hagen ceased to confer with the king, but summoned his knights to the chase, and, putting spurs to their horses, they started through the forest. But something in the faces of the leaders made the men only half-hearted in their eagerness for the hunt, and a spirit of silence and gloom spread over the whole party.

They hunted all the morning, but their success was small, and when they finally drew up at the meeting-place, they found that they had very little game to boast of. The men had already come from the castle with great baskets of provisions, so the knights dismounted, and sat upon the grass to await the coming of Siegfried.

Soon they heard the loud blast of horns, and the joyous hallooing of men mingled with the barking and yelping of hounds; and in a moment Siegfried and his followers came in sight. They shouted merrily to their comrades, and galloped forward to join them, while those seated upon the ground looked with delight and surprise at the beasts which had been slain by Siegfried’s skilful hand. There was a large black bear of the kind which was known to be so fierce that it was well-nigh impossible to kill or capture him. There was also a huge wild boar and three shaggy wolves, besides a great number of smaller animals, such as the fox and deer. The knights were all loud in their praises of Siegfried’s wonderful skill, and he took their homage gladly, seeming wholly unconscious of Hagen’s cruel face or Gunther’s averted eyes.

Soon the midday feast was ready, and the men sat down to eat. Some of the game they had caught that morning was roasted and placed before them, and they ate almost greedily, for the sport had given them sufficient excuse for hunger. Presently Gunther said:—

“Is there no wine to accompany our meat? To eat without drinking is but a poor way to feast.” The attendant to whom he spoke answered,—

“There was no wine provided, my lord.”

“How is that?” demanded the king, angrily.

“It was Prince Hagen’s command,” replied the servant, humbly, and at this Hagen interposed, saying:—

“Why should the king ask for wine when not a hundred rods away is a beautiful stream more clear and sparkling than the finest wine? Let us go there and quench our thirst.”

“Very well,” said Gunther; “and for my part, I am satisfied with the drink you offer. It remains for my guest to declare himself content.”

At this Siegfried rose and exclaimed eagerly:—

“If that fear weighs upon you, let me prove how little you should cherish it. I will go first to the stream, and come and tell you how pure and sweet is its water.”

“Let me show you the way, then,” said Hagen, and as he and Siegfried moved away together, he asked hesitatingly:—

“Will you run a race with me, Sir Siegfried, to see which of us will reach the stream first? For though I am much older than you in years, I was accounted a famous runner in my time.”

“Gladly,” replied Siegfried; and they started off toward the stream. But although Hagen went with wonderful swiftness considering his years, he could not outrun the fleet-footed Siegfried, who reached the goal some minutes before Hagen came up.

“You are truly a swift runner, even now, friend Hagen,” he cried gayly, “and I can easily believe your boast that you were once the most famous runner in the kingdom.”

At this Hagen smiled and said,—

“But what are we poor men, even the best of us, beside the noble Siegfried, who can outstrip all the warriors of Burgundy, no matter what the contest may be?”

“Nay, you are overzealous in your praise,” laughed Siegfried, but he was pleased with Hagen’s friendly words, for he did not detect the undertone of jealousy and anger. Then courteously he bade Hagen drink of the stream, but Hagen answered:—

“Do you drink first, and let me follow you, for though you would yield the courtesy to me because of my age, I would rather give precedence to you as the better runner. Drink, therefore, but first lay aside your armour, for the weight of it might throw you into the stream.”

Siegfried, ever trustful and unsuspicious, threw off his coat of mail and laid his spear beside it, thus leaving unprotected the inner coat on which Kriemhild had sewed the fatal mark. Then he knelt upon the ground, and stooping over put his hand into the stream and prepared to raise the water to his lips. At this moment Hagen, with catlike swiftness, caught up Siegfried’s shining spear, and, aiming it directly toward the mark, hurled it with all his force.[58]

The weapon sank into the stooping body, and with a groan Siegfried rolled over upon the ground. As soon as he was able, he turned to see who had done this cowardly deed; and only when he saw Hagen fleeing in guilty haste, could he believe that the blow was dealt by one who so lately seemed his friend. Siegfried put his hand feebly to his shoulder, and when he found where the spear had struck, he knew that his wound was mortal. He made one great effort to rise, and gathering together all his strength, he drew out the spear and started in pursuit of Hagen.

The treacherous murderer had fled for protection to the king, and thither Siegfried followed him; but before he reached the astonished and horror-stricken group who were watching his approach, the blood began to gush forth from his wound, and he sank helplessly to the ground. The whole company of knights knelt down beside him, weeping and lamenting over the loss of their leader. One of them raised the dying hero’s head and placed it upon his knee, while others tried to stanch the blood from his wound. Siegfried, however, bade them cease their efforts, for his end had now come.

Then he turned to Hagen, and upbraided him for his cowardly deed, and for his treachery in obtaining the secret of his vulnerability from Kriemhild to use it in such a dastardly way. His strength was now almost exhausted, and his eyes began to close; but suddenly he roused again, and said to the trembling and terrified king:—

“Thou hast played a coward’s part to thy friend who trusted thee, O Gunther, and some day thou wilt bitterly repent of having aided thine uncle in his wickedness. But for this I will not reproach thee, for thou art already sorrowing. One thing only I ask of thee, and do thou promise it, and make what amends thou canst. Take care of thy sister Kriemhild, and do not let Hagen’s vengeance extend to her. Though thou hast proved an unworthy friend to me, yet I commend my wife to thy keeping. Wilt thou swear to protect and cherish her?”

“I swear it,” replied Gunther, now weeping remorseful tears.

“Then see that thou play the man, nay, be for once the king, and keep thine oath to the dying.”

As he finished these words, Siegfried sank back lifeless into the arms of the knight who supported him. All at once the clouds overhead grew fearfully dark, and the air seemed full of a strange, ominous stillness. The birds stopped their singing, and the forest was silent with the hush of night. The warriors stood weeping beside the body of their slain leader, but no one dared to speak. Slowly and sadly they raised Siegfried from the ground; and, placing him on their shoulders, bore him to the place where the faithful Greyfel was standing, patiently awaiting the coming of his master. One of the knights led the horse, while a solemn group of mourners followed, and not even the sternest old warrior among them felt ashamed of the tears he shed for the dead hero.

When the sorrowful procession reached the city gates, the news was quickly spread that Siegfried was slain, and by the hand of Hagen. There was great mourning throughout the city, and beneath the wail of sorrow was a muttered undertone of threats towards the man who could do such a cowardly and treacherous thing as to kill the friend who trusted him. But Hagen faced the people, calm and grim as ever, and said boldly:—

“Let all the guilt of this deed rest upon me, for it was by my hand that Siegfried died. Now there is but one lord of Burgundy, King Gunther, and no longer shall Brunhilde sit in tears, for the insult put upon her is avenged.”