eaven, full of foreboding care. They reached Sintram's ear; he stood
as if spellbound and made the Sign of the Cross. Immediately the little
master fled away, jumping uncouthly on one leg, through the gates and
shutting them after him with a yell.

Gabrielle shuddered, terrified at the wild noise. Sintram approached her
softly, and said, offering his arm to her: "Suffer me to lead you back
to the castle. The night in these northern regions is often wild and
fearful."

CHAPTER 8

They found the two knights drinking wine within. Folko was relating
stories in his usual mild and cheerful manner, and Biorn was listening
with a moody air, but yet as if, against his will, the dark cloud might
pass away before that bright and gentle courtesy. Gabrielle saluted the
baron with a smile, and signed to him to continue his discourse, as she
took her place near the knight Biorn, full of watchful kindness. Sintram
stood by the hearth, abstracted and melancholy; and the embers, as he
stirred them, cast a strange glow over his pallid features.

"And of all the German trading-towns," continued Montfaucon, "the
largest and richest is Hamburgh. In Normandy we willingly see their
merchants land on our coasts, and those excellent people never fail to
prove themselves our friends when we seek their advice and assistance.
When I first visited Hamburgh, every honour and respect was paid to me.
I found its inhabitants engaged in a war with a neighbouring count, and
immediately I used my sword for them, vigorously and successfully."

"Your sword! your knightly sword!" interrupted Biorn; and the old wonted
fire flashed from his eyes. "Against a knight, and for shopkeepers!"

"Sir knight," replied Folko, calmly, "the barons of Montfaucon have ever
used their swords as they chose, without the interference of another;
and as I have received this good custom, so do I wish to hand it on. If
you agree not to this, so speak it freely out. But I forbid every rude
word against the men of Hamburgh, since I have declared them to be my
friends."

Biorn cast down his haughty eyes, and their fire faded away. In a low
voice he said, "Proceed, noble baron. You are right, and I am wrong."

Then Folko stretched out his hand to him across the table, and resumed
his narration: "Amongst all my beloved Hamburghers the dearest to me are
two men of marvellous experience--a father and son. What have they not
seen and done in the remotest corners of the ea