At length they lighted on him in a damp, dark dungeon, chained to a wall, and grown so pale and thin as to be hardly recognisable. Fresh air, food, and wine soon made a change in his appearance. He put on his armour, and sadly took another sword, saying that none could be as good as Mimung. “Now let us begone,” said Isung, “lest the Wilkin-men should come back.” So Wildeber and he helped themselves to horses from the royal stables, and the three heroes galloped away. “Of a truth,” cried King Etzel, when he heard their story, “you are bold men. You have done me good service, and have brought the war to an end unaided. The lord of Bern is richer than I, in that he has comrades who willingly venture their own lives to serve a brother-in-arms.” He kept the heroes for several days to recruit their strength, and then sent them home laden with rich gifts. Dietrich was overjoyed to see his brave warriors again, and showed them honour in many ways; but noticing that trusty Wittich was silent, and had no appetite for wine or food, he asked him what ailed him. And Wittich answered that he sorrowed for the loss of Mimung, his father’s best gift, and would go in search of it though he had to wander through every land. “I have a notion that you need not take so long a journey,” replied the king, “for I cannot help thinking that the sword Heime wears is as like Wieland’s work as one drop of blood is like another.” The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of two warriors in rich armour, who had been sent by the Emperor Ermenrich, Dietrich’s uncle, to tell the hero that Yarl Rimstein, his vassal in a great fief, had revolted against his authority. Ermenrich, therefore, entreated his nephew’s aid, and Dietrich promised to help the emperor. MARCH AGAINST RIMSTEIN. Before starting, Wittich said that he could not go to Rimstein without his sword, and Heime refused to give it up, alleging that it was his by right of war; but the king smoothed matters for the time by desiring Heime to lend it to his comrade during the campaign. The warriors set out. The rebel yarl proved himself a tougher foe than had been expected, and even after weeks and months had passed, his castle seemed as impregnable as ever. One moonlight night when Wittich was out alone, he met six warriors whom he knew, by the device upon their shields, to belong to the enemy. They fought, and Wittich slew their chief, his sword Mimung cutting him in two from the neck to the waist. The other five fled in terror, lest a like fate should befall them. On examining the dead man, Wittich found it was the yarl himself that he had slain, so he returned to the camp well pleased. Next morning he told Dietrich and his comrades what had chanced, and how the war was now at an end.