“Do you think it is part of a king’s duty to make a target of himself for every wandering adventurer to strike at? Here, my men, seize the rascal, and hang him to the highest gallows.” “The power to do so is on your side,” answered Wittich, “but bethink you, my lord, whether such a deed would not bring dishonour on your fair fame.” And Hildebrand said, “Sire, this is Wittich, son of Wieland, the celebrated smith. He is no mean man, or secret traitor, but well worthy of a place in the ranks of your comrades.” “Very well, master,” replied the king, “I will fight him as he desires, but should he be conquered, I will deliver him to the hangman. It is my last word. Now come to the race-course.” The whole town assembled to witness the duel between the king and the stranger. The combat raged long, but at last Wittich’s sword broke, and he stood defenceless before the king. “False father, you deceived me,” he cried, “you gave me the wrong sword, and not Mimung.” “Surrender, vagrant,” cried Dietrich, “and then to the gallows with you.” The young warrior’s last hour had come, if Hildebrand had not sprung between them. “Sire,” he said, “spare an unarmed man, and make him one of your comrades. We could not have a more heroic soul in our company.” “No. He shall go to the gallows. Stand back, master, that he may once more lick the dust before me.” The master was sick at heart. He thought of how he had wronged the young hero by changing his sword: “Here, brave warrior, is your sword Mimung,” he said, handing Wittich the weapon at his side, “and now, Dietrich, do your best!” The battle began again, and Mimung showed its mettle now. Bits of the king’s shield and armour fell away, and a home-stroke laid his helmet open. “Surrender, king!” cried the victorious youth; but Dietrich fought on, in spite of terrible wounds. Then the master sprang forward. “Wittich,” he cried, “hold your hand, for it is not your own strength, but Wieland’s sword that gives you victory. Be our comrade, and then we shall rule the world, for, next to the king, you are the bravest of all the heroes.” “Master,” replied Wittich, “you helped me in my need and I will not now deny you.” Then turning to the king: “Glorious hero of Bern, I am your man henceforward, and will be faithful to you as long as I live.” The king took his offered hand in his firm grasp, and made him ruler over a large fief. WILDEBER, ILSAN AND OTHER COMRADES.