city, at midnight, to the tent of Alaric, the Chief of the besiegers.

The man was haggard and torn. His eyes were wild, his hands trembling.
The Chief held and steadied him with a look.

"Who are you?" he asked. "Your name, the purpose that brings you
here?"

"My name," said the man, "is the Avenger. For thirty years I have
lived in Dun, and the people have been unjust and cruel to me.
They persecuted my family, because they hated me. My wife died of
a broken heart, my children of starvation. I have just escaped from
the prison of Dun, and come to tell you how the city may be taken.
There is a secret pathway, a hidden entrance. I know it and can
reveal it to you."

"Good," said the Chief, measuring the man with tranquil eyes, "but
what is your price?"

"Vengeance," said the man, "I ask only the right to revenge my
sufferings upon those who have inflicted them, when you have taken
the city."

Alaric bent his head and was silent for a moment. "It is a fair
price," he said, "and I will pay it. Tell me the way to take the
city, and I will leave at your command a troop of soldiers sufficient
to work your will on it afterward."

II