damsel leading her eldest son, a child of ten summers, and
bearing a word of her mouth to bid him foster the child for his
helper, if he should prove worthy and bold-hearted. And Sigmund
heeded her words and fostered the child for the space of three months
even though he could give no love to a son of Siggeir.

At last he was minded to try the boy's courage, to which end he set a
deadly ash-grey adder in the meal-sack, and bade the child bake bread.
But he feared when he found something that moved in the meal and had
not courage to do the task. Then would Sigmund foster him no longer,
but thrust him out from the woods to return to his father's hall.

So ten years won over again, and Signy sent another son to the
wild-wood, and the lad was called Sinfiotli. Sigmund thrust him into
many dangers, and burdened him with heavy loads, and he bore all
passing well.

Now after a year Sigmund deemed that the time for his testing was
come, and once again he set an adder in the meal-sack and bade the
lad bake bread. And the boy feared not the worm, but kneaded it with
the dough and baked all together. So Sigmund cherished him as his own
son, and he grew strong and valiant and loved Sigmund as his father.

Now Sigmund began to ponder how he might at last take vengeance on
Siggeir, and gladly did Sinfiotli hear him, for all his love was
given to Sigmund, so that he no longer deemed himself the Goth-king's
son.

At last when the long mirk nights of winter were come, Sigmund and his
foster-son went their way to the home of Siggeir and sought to lurk
therein. Then Sinfiotli led the way to a storehouse where lay great
wine-casks, and whence they could see the lighted feast-hall, and
hear the clamour of Siggeir's folk. There they had to abide the time
when the feasters should be hushed in sleep. Long seemed the hours to
Sinfiotli, but Sigmund was calm and clear-eyed.

Then it befell that two of Queen Signy's youngest-born children threw
a golden toy hither and thither in the feast-hall, and at last it
rolled away among the wine-casks till it lay at Sigmund's feet. So the
children followed it, and coming face to face with those lurkers, they
fled back to the feast-hall. And Sigmund and his foster-son saw all
hope was ended, for they heard the rising tumult as men ran to their
weapons; so they made ready to go forth and die in the hall. Then on
came the battle around the twain, and but short is the tale to tell,
for Sinfiotli slippe