hey followed their guides, and rode through the
great gateway, and into the open court, and halted beneath the palace
windows.

And the three kings--Gunther, Gernot, and Giselher--and their young
sister, the matchless Kriemhild, looked down upon them from above, and
hazarded many guesses as to who the lordly strangers might be. And all
the inmates of the castle stood at the doors and windows, or gathered in
curious groups in the courtyard, and gazed with open-mouthed wonder upon
the rich armor and noble bearing of the thirteen heroes. But all eyes
were turned most towards Siegfried and the wondrous steed Greyfell. Some
of the knights whispered that this was Odin, and some that it was Thor,
the thunderer, making a tour through Rhineland. But others said that
Thor was never known to ride on horseback, and that the youth who sat
on the milk-white steed was little like the ancient Odin. And the ladies
who looked down upon the heroes from the palace windows said that this
man could be no other than the Sunbright Balder, come from his home in
Breidablik, to breathe gladness and sunshine into the hearts and lives
of men.

Only one among all the folk in the castle knew who the hero was who had
ridden thus boldly into the heart of Burgundy-land. That one was
Hagen, the uncle of the three kings, and the doughtiest warrior in all
Rhineland. With a dark frown and a sullen scowl he looked out upon the
little party, and already plotted in his mind how he might outwit, and
bring to grief, the youth whose name and fame were known the whole world
over. For his evil mind loved deeds of darkness, and hated the pure and
good. By his side, at an upper window, stood Kriemhild, the peerless
maiden of the Rhine; but her thoughts were as far from his thoughts as
the heaven-smile on her face was unlike the sullen scowl on his grim
visage. As the moon in her calm beauty is sometimes seen in the sky,
riding gloriously by the side of a dark thunder-cloud,--the one more
lovely, the other more dreadful, by their very nearness,--so seemed
Kriemhild standing there by the side of Hagen.

"Think you not, dear uncle," she said, "that this is the Shining Balder
come to earth again?"

"The gods have forgotten the earth," answered Hagen in surly tones. "But
if, indeed, this should be Balder, we shall, without doubt, find another
blind archer, who, with another sprig of mistletoe, will send him back
again to Hela."

"What do you mean?" asked Kriemhild e