repeating the advice which the prince had given him at his departure, and watching with eager eyes every movement of the enemy. At length, “Would it be too rash now?” muttered he to himself; but immediately after he added, in a loud and firm tone, “In God’s name, and to the best of my judgment, this is the right and only moment for attack, and he would be a pitiful coward who would stand considering how to do more than Providence has placed in his power.” At the same moment he drew his sword, and wielded it gleaming over his head. The whole troop at the same instant obeyed the signal, and swift as lightning began to leap again over the trench, whence, with loud and terrific shouts, they commenced their attack on the enemy in the rear-guard and flank. The worthy pupil of the old Knight of Trautwangen had chosen his time with good reflection and discretion. Both horse and foot among the pagans fled with cries of despair from the trench; and the Norman squadron, without troubling themselves with the fugitives, whom they could easily have taken prisoners, always urged their way onwards like a destroying tempest, wherever the enemy’s force still remained dense and collected together. “Down with them! down with them, brave Normans! now is your time!” cried Sir Otto, and his words were echoed in shouts of exultation by the whole squadron, who, in a short time, performed such services, that the Swedish army were enabled to advance even to the very spot on which the Normans were contending; thereafter the pagans all took to flight, and were scattered widely through the field in every direction; very many were slain, and many taken prisoners. At last the old prince came riding across the plain; he threw himself from his horse, and heartily embraced Sir Otto, who had also dismounted. “Brave Swedes!” then he cried aloud, “behold in this youth the scion of a noble oak-tree, under whose protecting shade the whole of our land may yet one day rejoice in peace and security!” CHAPTER XII. How Sir Folko de Montfaucon returned from Spain, and brought with him the Moorish prince Mutza. While these events were passing in Sweden, it chanced one day, in a blooming forest of Gascony, that three young damsels were riding, followed by a train of squires and other attendants. One could well perceive, by the whole appearance of the party, that they did not intend any long journey, but were intent only on a pleasure-excursion through the shady woods, to enjoy the cool breezes of the sea, whose shores were not far distant. Now and then one could hear their voices joining in a pleasant choral song, while the birds of the forest answered them, and vied with their music.