“Stop, traitor,” shouted Dietrich. “You have the sword Mimung in your hand, with which you once conquered me at Bern, and do you now fear to stand?” But Wittich, by encouraging words, and a free use of the spur, urged his noble steed to a yet swifter pace. The king did the same, and Falcon was even fleeter than Wittich’s gallant charger. The surf might now be heard beating on the sea-shore. The fugitive warrior reached the strand. He could fly no farther. And behold, at the same moment, two white arms and a woman’s head rose out of the waves. “Wachilde—ancestress—save me—hide me from that spirit of hell,” he cried, and took the terrible leap. And Wachilde received him in her arms, and bore him to her crystal hall at the bottom of the sea. Dietrich did not hesitate to follow. The waters swept over him and his horse, but Falcon rose again and swam through the roaring surf to the shore. The king looked all about, but Wittich had vanished. He could see nothing but the foaming waves. Sadly the king returned to the camp, having found neither the vengeance nor the death he had sought. The Huns declared that they would return home as soon as they had buried their princes with fitting honour. Dietrich heard their determination unmoved. He was thinking of those who had fallen. Master Hildebrand, on the other hand, did what he could to induce them to follow up the victory that they had gained the previous day; but it was labour lost. They had had enough of fighting at the battle of Ravenna. Broken-hearted, Dietrich returned to King Etzel, by whom he was received with the greatest kindness, in spite of all that had come and gone. He sank into a state of sorrowful brooding and melancholy, until at length Herrat, his faithful wife, came to him, and spoke words of comfort and encouragement. And he roused from his dull woe, and started again for fair Lombardy, accompanied by the Queen. [Illustration] IX. GOING HOME. TO GARDEN. The King, Queen, and the old Master took leave of Etzel, who was too sad about the death of his boys to take much interest in their coming or going. The travellers at length came to a wooded hill with a castle perched on the top. This castle belonged to a robber-knight named Elsung, who had always been an enemy of the Amelungs and Wölfings. The old master, who acted as guide, and led the way, bade the king be prepared. He did not speak a moment too soon, for Elsung at the same instant appeared, followed by some horsemen. The robber-knight drew rein, and haughtily demanded, as toll from the travellers, their horses and armour, Hildebrand’s long beard, and the beautiful woman who accompanied them. “We need our horses and armour that we may fight in the land of the Amelungs,” said Hildebrand, “and we cannot spare the woman, for she acts as our cook.”