The next morning Veliant came to Siegfried's forge, with a
sham smile upon his face. The boy knew that cowardice and
base deceit lurked, ill concealed, beneath that smile; yet,
as he was wont to do, he welcomed the foreman kindly.

"Siegfried," said Veliant, "let us be friends again. I am
sorry that I was so foolish and so rash yesterday, and I
promise that I will never again be so rude and unmanly as to
become angry at you. Let us be friends, good Siegfried! Give
me your hand, I pray you, and with it your forgiveness."

Siegfried grasped the rough palm of the young smith with
such a gripe, that the smile vanished from Veliant's face,
and his muscles writhed with pain.

"I give you my hand, certainly," said the boy, "and I will
give you my forgiveness when I know that you are worthy of
it."

As soon as Veliant's aching hand allowed him speech, he
said,--

"Siegfried, you know that we have but little charcoal left
for our forges, and our master will soon return from his
journey. It will never do for him to find us idle, and the
fires cold. Some one must go to-day to the forest-pits, and
bring home a fresh supply of charcoal. How would you like
the errand? It is but a pleasant day's journey to the pits;
and a ride into the greenwood this fine summer day would