"It shall not be sung in the halls of the Goths that the freedman Witichis was more self-sacrificing than the chief of the nobility! The strife is at an end; I greet thee, my King."
And the proud Duke bent his knee to Witichis, who raised him and pressed him to his heart.
"Brother! brother! what shame thou dost me!" cried Arahad.
"I look upon it as an honour," said Guntharis quietly. "And as a sign that my King sees no cowardice, but rather nobleness, in my homage, I beg a favour. Amelungs and Balthes have ousted my family from the place which belonged to it among the people of the Goths."
"At this moment," answered Witichis, "thou hast redeemed that place. The Goths shall never forget that the generosity of the Wölfungs has saved them from a civil war."
"And, as a sign of this, thou wilt give us the right to bear the standard of the Goths before the troops in every battle?"
"Be it so," said the King, giving him his right hand; "and none can be more worthy."
"Thanks, O King! Let us now go to Mataswintha."
"Mataswintha!" cried Arahad, who had looked on at this reconciliation, which buried all his hopes, in dismay. "Ha! you remind me at the right time. You can take the crown from me--let it go--but not my love, and not the duty of protecting my beloved. She has refused me, but I shall love her until death! I have protected her from my brother, who would have forced her to wed me. No less faithfully will I protect her now if you two attempt to force her to give her hand to my hated enemy. That hand, which is dearer to me than all the crowns of the world, shall be free!"
And he quickly mounted his horse, and galloped off to the camp.