The boar was well-nigh wearied out, and the duke knew that he could not go much farther.  He rode up close behind him; and the fierce animal, his mouth foaming with rage, turned furiously upon him.  But the duke, with a well-aimed thrust of his sword, pierced the great beast through his heart.

By this time, night was falling.  The duke knew that he was very far from any town or castle, but he hoped that some of his men might be within call.  He took his horn, and blew it twice full loudly.  But his huntsmen were now riding into Valenciennes; nor did they think that they had left their master behind them in the wood.  With his flint the duke kindled a fire; beneath an aspen tree, and made ready to spend the night near the place where the slain wild boar lay.

The forester who kept the wood heard the sound of Bego’s horn, and saw the light of the fire gleaming through the trees.  Cautiously he drew nearer.  He was surprised to see a knight so richly clad, with his silken hose and his golden spurs, his ivory horn hanging from his neck by a blue ribbon.  He noticed the great sword that hung at Bego’s side.  It was the fairest and fearfulest weapon he had ever seen.  He hastened as fast as he could ride to Lens, where Duke Fromont dwelt; but he spoke not a word to Fromont.  He took the steward of the castle aside, and told him of what he had seen in the wood.

“He is no common huntsman,” said the forester; “and you should see how richly clad he is.  No king was ever arrayed more gorgeously while hunting.  And his horse—­I never saw a better.”

“But what is all this to me?” asked the steward.  “If he is trespassing in the forest, it is your duty to bring him before the duke.”

“Ah! it is hard for you to understand,” answered the forester.  “Methinks that if our master had the boar, the sword, and the horn, he would let me keep the clothing, and you the horse, and would trouble us with but few questions.”

“Thou art indeed wise,” answered the steward.  And he at once called six men, whom he knew he could trust to any evil deed, and told them to go with the forester.

“And, if you find any man trespassing in Duke Fromont’s wood, spare him not,” he added.

In the morning the ruffians came to the place where Duke Bego had spent the night.  They found him sitting not far from the great beast which he had slain, while his horse stood before him and neighed with impatience and struck his hoofs upon the ground.  They asked him who gave him leave to hunt in the wood of Puelle.

“I ask no man’s leave to hunt where it pleases me,” he answered.

They told him then that the lordship of the wood was with Fromont and that he must go with them, as their prisoner, to Lens.

“Very well,” said Bego.  “I will go with you.  If I have done aught of wrong to Fromont the old, I am willing to make it right with him.  My brother Garin, the Lorrainer, and King Pepin, will go my surety.”