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“Let two men go at once to the dungeon and bring the prisoner out.”

While they were gone the group stood silent, as men half dazed, and wondered what would happen next.

In a few moments the two guards returned, bringing with them the prisoner, whom Sigurd greeted with every token of gratitude and joy.

“Brave friend,” he exclaimed, “but for thy generous devotion this night might have ended in murder and ruin, and these knaves and their friends might have done their king and me a grievous wrong. Accept Sigurd’s thanks.”

“What!” exclaimed the prisoner, falling on his knees, “art thou Sigurd? Do I owe my poor life to the bravest of all heroes?”

“I owe my life to thee, rather,” said Sigurd; “and not mine only, but my brother’s.” Then turning to the bewildered and shame-struck soldiers, he said–

“Men!–for I scorn to call you friends!–it remains for you to choose between your duty or the punishment reserved for traitors. You may thank Heaven your wicked plans for this night have been foiled, and that, traitors though you be, you do not stand here as murderers also. Let those who refuse to return to their allegiance stand forward.”

Not a man moved.

“Then,” said Sigurd, “I demand a pledge of your loyalty.”

“We will prove it with our lives!” cried the men, conscience-struck, and meaning what they said.

“All I ask,” said Sigurd, “is, that not a man here breathes a word of this night’s doing. Besides yourselves, one man only knows of my being at Niflheim, and he has vowed secrecy. Do you do the same?”

The soldiers eagerly gave the required pledge.

“I leave you now,” said Sigurd, “at the post of duty. Let him who would serve me, serve my king.”

“We will! we will!” cried the men.

Sigurd held up his hand.

“It is enough,” said he; “I am content. And you, friend,” said he to the late prisoner, “will you accompany me home?”

The man joyfully consented, and that same night those two departed to the sea, and before morning were darting over the waves towards the Castle of the North-West Wind.

Sigurd’s secret was safely kept. Ulf, to the day of his death, knew nothing of his brother’s journey to Niflheim; nor could he tell the reason why the loyalty of his soldiers revived from that time forward. He died in battle not long after, yet he lived long enough to repent of his harshness towards his brother, and to desire to see him again. Messengers from him were on their way to the Tower of the North-West Wind at the time when he fell on the field of Brulform. Sigurd’s first act after becoming king was to erect a monument on the spot where Ulf fell, with this simple inscription, which may be read to this day, “To my Brother.”