A dead silence reigned in the hall. At last Dietrich rose in his place, and in a loud clear voice offered himself as hostage for the men. Upon which the emperor ordered the twelve counts to be brought out of their prison, taken to the bath and provided with clothes suitable to their rank and condition. This was done, and while the poor fellows, scarcely able to believe their senses, were seated at the meal provided for them, some one outside began to play the harp. They listened intently, a deep flush dyeing their sunken cheeks, and a flash of joyful surprise brightening their sad eyes, for they recognised the air. “It is he! Our king is near. He has come to save us!” they whispered in awe-struck accents. Weeks passed, and light and food did their work in restoring the strength of the prisoners. One day the door of their room opened, and Rother came in dressed in his full armour. “You are free,” he said joyously, but he had scarcely had time to greet them when Berchther rushed forward to embrace his sons, followed by Wolfrat, the hero of Tegeling, strong Asprian, and Widolt, his inseparable companion. Rother told Leupold, and the rest, about their voyage, and that he was only known to the Greeks by the name of Dietrich. Then he told how he had won the love of fair Oda, and through her help had gained their freedom at the risk of his own life. But the best was yet to come. Imelot, king of Desert-Babylon, had invaded Constantine’s realm with a mighty army, and had demanded half the empire, and the hand of Princess Oda for his son Basilistum. “The emperor not knowing what to do,” continued Rother, “I offered to help him if he would allow you to join me and my friends. He consented, and so you are free to become my comrades in battle. Your armour and weapons lie without.” Widolt was so delighted at the thought of fighting that he gave way to a stentorian burst of laughter, and nearly knocked the emperor down by accident when he came in to tell the prisoners that they were free. WAR AND VICTORY.