Yet she is my willing slave, Full of fears, she will be brave When I call, and come to me, For her love is as the sea.” The passionate tones of the singer had stirred his hearers and the laugh died out on their lips ere he had finished the first bar. Mere curiosity had become keen interest, and there was a pause in the buzz and murmur that had filled the hall. He reached his right hand to his left shoulder and from beneath the loose red plaid he wore drew forth his great sword. This was the signal. Torfrida arose from her place and, ere the astonished prince could collect his senses, tripped lightly down the hall and stood beside the aged minstrel, the company being too much astonished to hinder her. Siegfried started up in great rage, and made towards them. Quickly and with wondrous strength did Feargus draw some ponderous benches that lay about to the front of him as a fence, and warned the prince back. “Prince, thou hast sworn, and all the company hath witnessed; be not rash, for an thou break promise given, thou wilt lose such worship as is left to thee. And I ask ye, knights and gentlemen, to see right done.” Many were for Feargus, but the prince still advanced, slowly and with great labour clearing the benches from before him as he went. Then Feargus set down his harp, and handed his long staff, which was his bow, to Torfrida that she might free it of the thongs which had served to hide it, and he started to his full height and cast off his grey beard and his rags and stood big and strong in his byrny with his great sword in his palm. Then those who had unwillingly followed their master held back, for they knew him the captain of the king’s guard. “Thou hast stolen my lady, and I am come to rescue her, and be he earl or boor, he that goeth to stay me shall die.” Then the prince, mad with rage, drew forth his sword and with many oaths advanced upon him, followed by those of his own Northumbrians who were present. The others, Britons from Strathclyde and Lothian and Southern Picts who had submitted to the rule of the strangers, saw that the minstrel was a Pict, and their jealousy of the Northumbrians being aroused they were less ready to see so gross a wrong done to one of their race. “Now he is a coward and recreant chief who keeps not his pledge,” cried Feargus, “and they be coward knights who help a lying leader.” Then the Britons tried to reason with the prince, but in vain, still he came on, followed by his drunken rout.