“Ay, that indeed!” replied Dietrich, with a stern glance at Hagen, “and pity is it, God wot, that King Siegfried lives no more. But Kriemhild’s vengeance still doth live; and thereby, much I fear me, evil is in store for you.” Günther started; yet, seeking to allay his fears, he asked: “Are we not here by Etzel’s own request? Surely your King would not deal falsely by his guests; and Kriemhild long since made peace with us.” But Hagen, wishing to know all the truth, urged Dietrich to speak freely. Whereupon he, taking Günther apart, told him how Kriemhild each morning bewailed the untimely death of Siegfried, with tears and prayers to God for vengeance. Then out-spoke the bold and jovial Volker: “Now, in good sooth, my lords, we must endure those evils that we cannot cure with what grace we can. Let us not dampen our courage with fears for what the future may bring forth!” And therewith they resumed their journey. When they came to the castle, the gates were flung open and the Huns poured forth in crowds to gaze at the Burgundian heroes with all their glittering train. Many eyes sought Hagen, for well was he known in the land of the Huns as the slayer of Siegfried the mighty; and all were struck with wonder at his massive frame no less than his haughty bearing and fierce aspect. Broad were his chest and shoulders, his black hair slightly tinged with gray, while his bold gaze roved restlessly about from beneath his shaggy eyebrows. King Etzel, with Kriemhild, stood at the window as the Burgundians on their gayly decked steeds rode into the spacious courtyard. When his eye fell upon Hagen he turned to his courtiers, demanding: “Who may yon haughty chieftain be?” “’Tis Hagen, son to old Sir Adrian, a bold and wrathful knight, my lord,” said one. “Ha!” cried the King, “’tis little strange I did not know him; for though he once was here at court, yet then forsooth, was he but a careless stripling.” The stranger knights were housed within the castle as became their rank, but for the retainers lodging was prepared in other quarters far removed therefrom. This Kriemhild had planned for her own purposes. Now she went forth to welcome her kinsmen. Giselher, who was guiltless of Siegfried’s death, she kissed and embraced fondly, but none other did she greet in this fashion. When Hagen marked this, he tightened the band of his helm and cast a meaning glance at Günther. After she had greeted all, she turned to Hagen, saying: “Welcome art thou to one who gladly sees thee here. Yet tell me, I pray thee, what hast thou brought me from the Rhine?” “Now, by my faith,” quoth Hagen, “thou art rich in gold and power, and yet dost ask what largess I bring!” “I desire no gifts of thee,” said Kriemhild, coldly. “I want that which is my own. Where is the treasure that thou didst withhold from me?”