The Lord of Montfaucon looked with astonishment at his strange foe; and as he gazed on him more and more, recollections arose in his mind of that northern race from whom he was descended, and with whom he had always maintained friendly relations.

A golden bear's claw, with which Sintram's cloak was fastened, at length made all clear to him.
"Have you not," said he, "a valiant and far-famed kinsman, called the Sea-king Arinbiorn, who carries on his helmet golden vulture-wings?
And is not your father the knight Biorn?
For surely the bear's claw on your mantle must be the cognisance of your house." Sintram assented to all this, in deep and humble shame.
The Knight of Montfaucon raised him from the ground, and said gravely, yet gently, "We are, then, of kin the one to the other; but I could never have believed that any one of our noble house would attack a peaceful man without provocation, and that, too, without giving warning." "Slay me at once," answered Sintram, "if indeed I am worthy to die by so noble hands.

I can no longer endure the light of day." "Because you have been overcome ?" asked Montfaucon.

Sintram shook his head.
"Or is it, rather, because you have committed an unknightly action ?" The glow of shame that overspread the youth's countenance said yes to this.
"But you should not on that account wish to die," continued Montfaucon.
"You should rather wish to live, that you may prove your repentance, and make your name illustrious by many noble deeds; for you are endowed with a bold spirit and with strength of limb, and also with the eagle-glance of a chieftain.

I should have made you a knight this very hour, if you had borne yourself as bravely in a good cause as you have just now in a bad.