in combat with many knights, whilst Hildegardis
looked on smiling from a richly-adorned balcony; and just as he thought
he had gained the victory the bleeding Edwald lay groaning beneath his
horse's feet. Then again it seemed as if Hildegardis stood by his side
in a church, and they were about to receive the marriage-blessing. He
knew well that this was not right, and the "yes," which he was to utter,
he pressed back with resolute effort into his heart, and forthwith
his eyes were moistened with burning tears. From yet stranger and more
bewildering visions the voice of Edwald at last awoke him. He raised
himself up, and heard his young companion saying courteously, as he
looked towards a neighbouring thicket, "Only return, noble maiden; I
will surely help you if I can; and I had no wish to scare you away, but
that the slumbers of my brother in arms might not be disturbed by you."
A golden gleam shone through the branches as it vanished.

"For heaven's sake, my faithful comrade," cried Froda, "to whom are you
speaking, and who has been here by me?"

"I cannot myself rightly understand," said Edwald. "Hardly had you
dropped asleep when a figure came forth from the forest, closely wrapped
in a dark mantle. At first I took her for a peasant. She seated herself
at your head; and though I could see nothing of her countenance, I could
well observe that she was sorely troubled, and even shedding tears. I
made signs to her to depart, lest she should disturb your sleep; and
would have offered her a piece of gold, supposing that poverty must
be the cause of her deep distress. But my hand seemed powerless, and
a shudder passed through me, as if I had entertained such a purpose
towards a queen. Immediately glittering locks of gold waved here and
there between the folds of her close-wrapped mantle, and the thicket
began almost to shine in the light which they shed. 'Poor youth,' said
she then, 'you love truly, and can well understand how a lofty woman's
heart burns in keenest sorrow when a noble knight, who vowed himself to
be her own, withdraws his heart, and, like a weak bondman, is led away
to meaner hopes.' Hereupon she arose, and, sighing, disappeared in
yonder thicket. It almost seemed to me, Froda, as though she uttered
your name."

"Yes, it was me she named," answered Froda; "and not in vain she named
me. Aslauga, thy knight comes, and enters the lists, and all for thee
and thy reward alone! At the same time, my Edchen, we