him.

The call seemed to come now; for his descendant, little Duke Jarl the Ninth,
was but a child; and being in no fear of him, the old foe had returned, and
the castle stood besieged. Also, farther than the eye could see from the
topmost tower, the land lay all overrun, its richness laid waste by armed
bands who gathered in its harvest by the sword, and the town itself lay under
tribute; from the tower one could see the busy quays, and the enemy loading
his ships with rich merchandise.

Sent up there to play in safety, little Duke Jarl could not keep his red head
from peering over the parapet. He began making fierce faces at the enemy--he
was still too young to fight: and quick a grey goose-shaft came and sang its
shrill song at his ear. So close had it gone that a little of the ducal blood
trickled out over his collar. His face worked with rage; leaning far out over
the barrier, he began shouting, "I will tell Duke Jarl of you!" till an
attendant ran up and snatched him away from danger.

Things were going badly: the castle was cut off from the land, and on the
seaward side the foe had built themselves a great mole within which their
war-ships could ride at anchor safe from the reach of storm. Thus there was no
way left by which help or provender could come in.

Little Duke Jarl saw men round him growing more gaunt and thin day by day, but
he did not understand why till he chanced once upon a soldier gnawing a foul
bone for the stray bits of meat that clung to it; then he learned that all in
the castle except himself had been put upon quarter-rations, though every day
there was more and more fighting work to be done.

So that day when the usual white bread and savouries were brought to him, he