While the Bohemian was collecting himself for a decisive stroke Edwald rushed in upon him, and, with the force of a wrestler, cast him to the ground.

But he spared his conquered foe, helped him courteously to rise, and then turned to mount his own steed.
Soon after he and Froda left the hostelry, and once more their journey led them on the same path as before.
"From henceforth this gives me pleasure," said Froda, pointing with satisfaction to their common road.

"I must own to you, Edchen"-- he had accustomed himself, in loving confidence, to call his young friend by that childlike name--"I must own to you that hitherto, when I have thought that you might perhaps be journeying with me to the tournament held in honour of the fair Hildegardis, a heaviness came over my heart.
Your noble knightly spirit I well knew, but I feared lest the strength of your slender limbs might not be equal to it.

Now I have learned to know you as a warrior who may long seek his match; and God be praised if we still hold on in the same path, and welcome our earliest meeting in the lists!" But Edwald looked at him sorrowfully, and said, "What can my skill and strength avail if they be tried against you, and for the greatest earthly prize, which one of us alone can win?
Alas! I have long foreboded with a heavy heart the sad truth, that you also are journeying to the tournament of the fair Hildegardis." "Edchen," answered Froda, with a smile, "my gentle, loving youth, see you not that I already wear on my breastplate the image of a liege lady?
I strive but for renown in arms, and not for your fair Hildegardis!" "MY fair Hildegardis!" answered Edwald, with a sigh.

"That she is not, nor ever will be--or should she, ah! Froda, it would pierce your heart.
I know well the northland faith is deep-rooted as your rocks, and hard to dissolve as their summits of snow; but let no man think that he can look unscathed into the eyes of Hildegardis.