"May Hel swallow up this gold and these treaties!" cried Hariowald. "For generations they have sold to our ancient foe our heart's blood and our young heroes, who were used against ourselves and our neighbors. If the hundreds of thousands who fell for Rome had banded together against Rome, we should have watered our long-maned horses long ago in the Gallic sea. But we will not cast aside your words, Ebarbold. Perhaps I may even consent to send an envoy to the Roman camp for peace!" "What! Is that your wish?" cried Adalo impetuously. "My wish will appear." "To offer peace? Let them retire? With their booty?" "It will not be hard to carry." Here a smile which lent the old Duke's lips a wonderful charm hovered around them. "Six pots in Iburninga and a broken mead vessel in Mariswik; so two old women complained to me." "And the prisoners!" Adalo reminded him. "They have only one, I hear," Ebarbold remarked, "the child of a small farmer." "No matter, she is a free maiden, a daughter of our race," cried Adalo, with blazing eyes. "She has a right to the protection of her people." "Protection? A captive! What can we--" "Release her with the sword--or avenge her." "Commence, for the sake of one woman, the conflict which will destroy the people?" "You are right," said the Duke slowly. "Women as well as men must be sacrificed for the welfare of the nation. Let her stay where she is--little Bissula." "What, Bissula?" asked Ebarbold, startled. "Albfledis, whom they call Bissula? The beautiful red elf?" "You know her?" Adalo asked. "Who has not heard of her? She is talked of along the whole shore of the lake, and in such a way that the listener is anxious to see her. I too grew curious and tried to get a look at her lately, at the last sun-festival. It is a pity about her. By Freya's eyes, a great pity! But peace is worth more." "Certainly," said Hariowald, "and victory still more." "Victory is certain," exclaimed Adalo. "Do you think so?" replied the old man reprovingly. "I do not. Not yet," he corrected himself. "Lead us to the attack on the Roman camp! Our men are pouring here in dense throngs since you sent the blood-red arrow from house to house." "There are not yet enough. The army still lacks many men from distant provinces situated far away toward the north and the east: Alpgau, Albwins-Bar, Wisentgau, and Draggau." "Do not calculate! Dare!" "I am doing so; but I also consider the firmness of the Roman camp." "But meanwhile our foes are strengthening themselves too. Their proud galleys already lie anchored opposite in Arbor; they will soon bring fresh cohorts over." "Let them do so." The old Duke laughed softly; his look expressed a grim, mysterious joy. "Meanwhile," he added after a pause, "I will send an envoy to the foe to-morrow." "Send me!" exclaimed Ebarbold eagerly. "No. Adalo, you will go." "He! He will not bring back peace." "No, but keen scrutiny, and--" he whispered to the youth--"perhaps Bissula."