"You know the Lord's declaration--He will own those publicly who own Him publicly, _and nobody else_." "But why couldn't they own Him privately?" "Will you tell me how that is to be done, my dear?" "Why, by beautiful Christian living and acting," said Flora. "Don't you see, if such living could be found among those who are in name and profession not the Lord's, it would fight all _against_ His cause and Him? What sort of confessing of _Him_ is that?" Nobody answered, and Meredith went on. "'In the meanwhile the valiant Duke Hermann had gathered his faithful followers and moved forward to meet the enemy. All the ediling and freiling were called upon for such expeditions of war, none other having the right to bear arms. The ediling served on horseback and the freiling on foot, and each one brought his own weapons with him. And Henning, the freiling of Dageförde, was among the Christian warriors who accompanied the Duke. Not far from here is the Hünenburg, an extent of heath on which there are a number of burial mounds. There it came to a battle between the Christians and the heathen. The fight was long and bloody; Christ led the one host, Satan the other. The Christians fought for their faith, the heathen fought for their prey. Before the battle, Hermann with his warriors had cast himself upon his knees and besought the Lord Christ that He would be their leader. Therewith came the storm of the heathen upon them, already certain of victory, for they were many and the Christian number was small; Hermann, in his noble eagerness to protect his poor people, not having had patience to wait for further reinforcements. But the Christians stood immovable, like a wall, and the heathen fell in heaps under their swords and spears. In the Christian army there were twelve priests wearing white garments, who bore a white banner with a red cross; and wherever the fight raged most madly, thither they carried their banner, singing, "Kyrie Eleison, Christe Eleison, Kyrie Eleison;" the Christian warriors dashing after them, joining in the holy song, wielding their hacked swords, and with irresistible force driving the heathen back. In vain the heathen sought to slay the priests and to seize their white banner; every Christian presented his breast as its bulwark against the foe. Whichever way the banner turned, victory went with it. Louder and louder sounded the "Kyrie Eleison," with more and more valour and joy of victory the Christians pressed forward. Then one of the Wendish leaders, Zwentibold by name, gathered once more the bravest of his people to make a stormy effort for the banner of the cross. His rage of onset broke through some ranks of the Christians; already he had penetrated to the near neighbourhood of the priests; when a foot-soldier from among the Christians manfully planted himself in his way and thrust his sharp spear against the heathen's broad breast, so that the coat of chain