"Your fingers would remember their old strength better, if they grasped a sword-hilt," said Gandalf.

Theoden rose and put his hand to his side; but no sword hung at his belt. "Where has Grima stowed it?" he muttered under his breath.

"Take this, dear lord!" said a clear voice. "It was ever at your service." Two men had come softly up the stair and stood now a few steps from the top. Eomer was there. No helm was on his head, no mail was on his breast, but in his hand he held a drawn sword; and as he knelt he offered the hilt to his master.

"How comes this?" said Theoden sternly. He turned towards Eomer and the men looked in wonder at him, standing now proud and erect. Where was the old man whom they had left crouching in his chair or leaning on his stick?

"It is my doing, lord," said Hama, trembling. I understood that Eomer was to be set free. Such joy was in my heart that maybe I have erred. Yet, since he was free again, and he a Marshal of the Mark,! brought him his sword as he bade me."

"To lay at your feet, my lord," said Eomer.

For a moment of silence Theoden stood looking down at Eomer as he knelt still before him. Neither moved.

"Will you not take the sword?" said Gandalf.