A handsome boy about fourteen, whose strong resemblance to Adalo marked him as his brother--only his curling locks were light yellow, almost white--was dragging by the ear a huge she-bear, which, growling, struggling, but yielding, allowed herself to be drawn nearer and nearer to the fire.

"Down, Bruna!" cried the lad, forcing the huge animal to lie prostrate. "You dearly loved the merry, dancing girl too. Look, you growling brown giantess, that's only the grandmother, and Zercho, who always brought you so much wild-honey from the bee-wood. But she is missing; our Bissula is gone. Ah, if you had been there, you would have defended her savagely; for you haven't forgotten that she and Adalo saved you, dragged you out of the torrent. When you were scarcely bigger than a kitten the cloud-burst swept you away from your mother, and you cried piteously as you were drowning. And her busy hands fed you even more eagerly than ours, with rich milk, rye bread, and dainty wild berries. Since you first opened your blinking eyes, which now look as though you knew as much as a human being, you have recognized her as your best friend. Oh, if you had been with her, no one would have dared to seize her. O brother, strong brother, you hero and shield of the whole province, bring her back! Alas, if the little one, with her dainty hands, should be forced to heat the bath-water for the hated foe and wash his feet, as I often saw their maid-servants do in Arbor! Why don't we rush down on the wings of the storm and hew her out of the high-walled camp citadel?"

He swung his little wolf spear: the fire blazed up brightly as he stood in the light of the flames, a handsome boyish figure, in his light-blue linen robe bordered with white swan's down.

"Yes, my Sippilo," said the older brother with ill-repressed sorrow, "you loved her too."

The boy looked up startled, but Adalo continued:

"Yes, yes. Perhaps she is dead--to us, to our people. Perhaps we shall never see her again, never hear her sweet, elfish, mocking laugh."

"Oh, the smoke! How it stings!" cried the lad, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"Perhaps she went with the Italians willingly," said Adalo, torturing himself savagely--"with the clever Ausonius!"

"Is he here again?" cried Sippilo. "I'll run him through like a fat carp that is sunning itself in shallow water. Oh, I used to wish he might fall under the curse of Odin and the sun. Whenever I went to get frogs for fishing or to play ball, she had always rowed over to him or would not leave the long rolls of runes over which she racked her brains. He had given them to her. If only I could catch him!"

"If we only had her back again! My heart is consumed with anxiety."

"Guard yourself from consuming anxiety, my son," said the old woman in a warning tone. "It will paralyze your thoughts and arm; and you will need both to liberate the naughty child. I am no prophetess, but I have had strange dreams since I grew blind--which often come to pass: I saw you to-night wounded, severely wounded. Guard your life. If she should be rescued, and no longer find you--"

"Then her vengeful wish would be fulfilled. She hates me. She shouted it loudly enough."

Sippilo laughed. "You? Hate you? She loves you better than a sister. How I always had to tell her about you, everything you were doing,--your prizes of honor in the contests; the gifts of neighboring princes; your last verses; whom they praised! When I met her on the lake quite lately, she asked if Jettaburga and her father did not often visit the 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.