respects, we are indeed but too like to each other.”--“So then,” said the pagan, brandishing his sword, “this old friend is now to be called Otto?”--“And this well-proved comrade of mine is named Ottur,” replied the other, striking with his iron glove on his sword, so that the blade rung and rattled in the scabbard. Thereupon the two warriors nodded kindly their parting salutations, and both descended into the valley to join their several squadrons. From this day onwards, the winter was spent quietly and peaceably amid the snow-covered mountains. The defeated Finlanders did not venture any more with their enchantments to provoke the Christian army; and the commanders on both sides past at intervals many tranquil, happy hours in the watch-tower of the Lady Minnatrost. The pious Druda continued, as was her wont, to appear calm, contented, and mild, as the silvery moonlight;--only once, when Sir Otto repeated, at the banquet-table, the farewell-songs of the beautiful Astrid and the stern Sir Hugur, which he had learned from the wise armourer at the sea-monarch’s castle, she began to weep bitterly, and begged of Sir Otto, that he never would sing those words to her again. By the knight her slightest wishes were ever looked upon as an irresistible law; and their life glided on so pleasantly, that the two champions wondered how the winter in the north had past so soon away; for, ere they had thought of changing their station, the mild zephyrs of spring were already breathing through the valleys,--the rivers again flowed in their rocky channels,--and plots of green grass and flowers began once more to appear amid these wild northern regions. CHAPTER XX. How the Pagan banner was brought to Sir Hugh von Trautwangen.