"I make the complaint reluctantly,--against my wish and will,--but my oath requires it. For when I took command of the men of the western shore of the lake, I was obliged to swear on the Duke's hand to denounce before the assembly any breach of his orders that might occur in my troop. So speak I must, for I fear to break the oath. You all know that the Duke forbade, on pain of death, the lighting of a fire by day or night in any of the boats where the fugitives from the country at first lay concealed among the rushes on the western shore: if the Romans, while passing, discovered by smoke or flame that there were people living in the wide marshy forests, all who were hidden there might be lost. When I set out, I repeated the Duke's command to all my men; Fiskulf was standing on my shield side. And yet, while the foe was passing along the shore he lighted a fire on the Pike Stone which rises above the reeds. True, it was daylight, but the smoke was visible. The nearest cohort had halted and was preparing to look for the fire, which I with difficulty put out in time to lull their suspicions. I must now accuse Fiskulf of this breach of orders."

He paused and drew back a step. A murmur of indignation ran through the ranks, blended with many a loud cry of anger and reproach.

"Silence, all! Silence in the circle, until I ask your judgment," shouted the Duke from his lofty stone seat, raising his spear aloft. "I forbid reproaches; I command peace. You, Fiskulf, what say you to the charge? Denial, or confession?"

"Confession," replied the fisherman sorrowfully. "It is as the Adeling said."

"You knew the command?"

"I knew it."

"You broke the command?"

"I broke it. Alas, I am so deeply ashamed. It was from hunger--but not to satisfy my own. We had lain hidden in the marshland forest for many nights; the stock of dried fish I had brought in the boat was exhausted. I repressed my hunger and chewed the tops of the young reeds. I would not have done it for myself; but my boy, who was with me (he had just recovered from the fever that lurks in the swamps, and he is only seven years old), cried so bitterly with hunger, begging and pleading: 'Father, father, give me something to eat!' It cut me to the heart! I speared a large pike that was sunning itself near the stone, cut it in pieces, and meant to give it to the child to eat. But loathing choked him: he only cried quietly and no longer entreated me. Then I rubbed two dry sticks together till I kindled a fire, broiled the fish on the top of the stone, and gave it to the boy to eat. I ate some myself, too."

"I was forced to accuse him," said Adalo. "But I entreat the assembly not to punish the man. No harm came from his act. A father--"

"Silence, Accuser," the judge interrupted. "You have made the complaint; he has confessed: you have nothing more to do here except to listen to the sentence. I ask: what may follow breaking an order given to the troops when the enemy is in the country? What? You are silent? The disobedience might destroy the whole nation. What? You refuse to point out the law," the old man went on indignantly. "Or do you gray-beards no longer know what the boys learn? Answer! Point out the law,--" he rose threateningly,--"or I will tear the shield of the assembly from the ash and complain to the gods: The Alemanni have forgotten the laws of their people! What is the punishment of treason and breaking the oath of service?"