helm of Helgund."

"I own the token," said Odo. "My son lives. He needs no
vengeance." He turned the handle of his axe downwards, passed it to
his left hand, and stretched the right to Verronax, saying, "Young
man, thou art brave. There is no blood feud between us. Odo, son
of Helgund, would swear friendship with you, though ye be Romans."

"Compensation is still due according to the amount of the injury,"
said the Senator scrupulously. "Is it not so, O King?"

Euric assented, but Odo exclaimed--

"No gold for me! When Odo, son of Helgund, forgives, he forgives
outright. Where is my son?"

Food had by this time been brought by the King's order, and after
swallowing a few mouthfuls Marcus could stand and speak.

Odorik, apparently dead, had been dragged by the Goths into the hut
of the widow Dubhina to await his father's decision as to the
burial, and the poor woman had been sheltered by her neighbour,
Julitta, leaving the hovel deserted.

Columba, not allowing her grief and suspense to interfere with her
visits of mercy to the poor woman, had come down as usual on the
evening of the day on which her father and her betrothed had started
on their sad journey. Groans, not likely to be emitted by her
regular patient, had startled her, and she had found the floor
occupied by the huge figure of a young Goth, his face and hair