"My lord," said he, "you know what only a few know. Ulf is to be at Niflheim." "When?" demanded Sigurd. "This night," said the man. Sigurd answered nothing, but walked on quickly. The man, seeing that he was determined to enter the town, followed cautiously and at a distance, waiting to see what might happen. It was evening as Sigurd entered Jockjen. The little town, overshadowed by its grim fortress, was astir with unwonted bustle. For the king's marriage on the morrow had brought together many of the country people, who, though they loved not Ulf, loved a pageant, and a holiday to see it in. And besides them many soldiers were there who talked mysteriously at street corners, and seemed to have other business than merry-making on hand. Sigurd passed unheeded through the streets, keeping his face hid in his cloak, and avoiding all points where the crowd seemed large or curious. He was hastening thus stealthily down a by-street which led towards Niflheim, when he suddenly became aware of a small group of men before him, under the shadow of a high wall, in eager talk. He halted, for, by their eager gestures and cautious looks, he judged them to be desperate men, whom it would be well for him to avoid rather then meet. Withdrawing quickly into a deeper shade, he waited with impatience till their conference should be over. As he waited he heard them speak. "By this time," said one, "he should have learned what is in store." "Doubtless," said another. "Yet I am glad it was no earlier, for it will all be over before he can prevent it." "Ulf once dead," said the first, "Sigurd cannot help being the king, however much he may dislike it." "Nay, he dislikes not being king, but he is so foolishly tender about his brother." The other laughed. "There are others, I trust, will not be foolishly tender with his brother this night. At what hour is the deed to be done?" "By midnight." At this Sigurd, who had heard it all, could not refrain from starting where he stood. The men heard him in an instant, and finding themselves thus discovered, rushed with one accord on the hero. Before Sigurd could draw his sword or offer any resistance he was overpowered and held fast by his assailants who, for fear he should cry aloud and alarm the town, threw a cloak over his head and led him off quickly to the castle. Here, when the guards came out and inquired what it all meant, "This man," they said, "we know to be an enemy of the king's, who has come disguised to this town to do him some harm; keep him fast till the morning." The guard, without so much as uncovering Sigurd's face, hurried him through the gate, and brought him to a dark dungeon, into which they thrust him, turning the key twice upon him. Then Sigurd cast himself on the floor in despair.