Part 13 (1/2)

With his own hands the baron swung to the ma.s.sive trap, swearing a deep oath.

?If I forgive my daughter, or any of her accomplices, may I die suddenly where I now stand, and may my soul perish for ever!?

The disappointed bridegroom soon returned to his own land, and the baron, whose increasing moroseness made him cordially hated by his attendants, was left to the bitterness of his thoughts.

Meanwhile Rudolph and his bride had escaped unseen from the castle rock and now dwelt in the forests skirting the Seven Mountains. While the summer lasted all went well with them; they, and the little son who was born to them, were content with the sustenance the forest afforded. But in the winter all was changed. Starvation stared them in the face. More and more pitiful became their condition, till at length Rudolph resolved to seek the baron, and give his life, if need be, to save his wife and child.

That very day Rheinhard was out hunting in the forest. Imagine his surprise when a gaunt figure, clad in a bearskin, stepped from the undergrowth and bade him follow, if he wished to see his daughter alive.

The startled old man obeyed the summons, and arrived at length before a s.p.a.cious cavern, which his guide motioned him to enter. Within, on a pile of damp leaves, lay Etelina and her child, both half-dead with starvation. Rheinhard?s anger speedily melted at the pathetic sight, and he freely forgave his daughter and Rudolph, his. .h.i.therto unrecognized guide, and bade them return with him to Okkenfels.

Etelina?s first request was for a pardon for the old chaplain, and Rheinhard himself went to raise the heavy trap-door. While peering into the gloom, however, he stumbled and fell headlong into the dungeon below. ?A judgment!? he shrieked as he fell, then all was silence.

The bruised remains of the proud baron were interred in the parish church of Linz, and henceforth Etelina and her husband lived happily at Okkenfels. But both they and the old chaplain offered many a pious prayer for the soul of the unhappy Baron Rheinhard.

Oberworth

In the middle of the Rhine, a little above Coblentz, lies the island of Oberworth, where at one time stood a famous nunnery. Included in the traditional lore of the neighbourhood is a tragic tale of the beautiful Ida, daughter of the Freiherr von Metternich, who died within its walls in the fourteenth century.

Von Metternich, who dwelt at Coblentz, was a wealthy and powerful n.o.ble, exceedingly proud of his fair daughter, and firmly convinced that none but the highest in the land was fit mate for her. But Ida had other views, and had already bestowed her heart on a young squire in her father?s train. It is true that Gerbert was a high-born youth, of stainless life, pleasing appearance, and gentle manners, and, moreover, one who was likely at no distant date to win his spurs. Nevertheless the lovers instinctively concealed their mutual affection from von Metternich, and plighted their troth in secret.

But so ardent an affection could not long remain hidden.

The time came when the n.o.bleman discovered how matters stood between his daughter and Gerbert, and with angry frowns and muttered oaths he resolved to exercise his paternal authority. ?My daughter shall go to a nunnery,? he said to himself. ?And as for that jackanapes, he must be got rid of at once.? He pondered how he might conveniently rid himself of the audacious squire.

That night he dispatched Gerbert on a mission to the grand prior of the Knights-Templars, who had his abode at the neighbouring castle of Lahneck. The unsuspecting squire took the sealed missive and set out, thinking as he rode along how rich he was in possessing so sweet a love as Ida, and dreaming of the time when his valour and prowess should have made their marriage possible. But his dreams would have been rudely disturbed had he seen what was pa.s.sing at Coblentz. For his betrothed, in spite of her tears and pleadings, was being secretly conveyed to the nunnery of Oberworth, there to remain until she should have forgotten her lover?as though the stone walls of a convent could shut out the imaginings of a maid! However, Gerbert knew nothing of this, and he rode along in leisurely fas.h.i.+on, until at length he came to the Schloss Lahneck, where he was at once conducted into the presence of the grand prior of the Knights-Templars.

The grand prior was a man of middle age, with an expression of settled melancholy on his swarthy features. Gerbert approached him with becoming reverence, bent his knee, and presented the missive.

The prior turned his gaze so earnestly on the young man?s face that Gerbert dropped his eyes in confusion. A moment later the prior broke the seal and hastily scanned the letter.

?Who mayest thou be, youth?? he asked abruptly.

?Gerbert von Isenburg, sir.?

?And thy mother??

?Guba von Isenburg,? was the astonished Gerbert?s reply.

The prior seemed to be struggling with deep emotion.

?Knowest thou the purport of this missive?? he said at last.

?It concerns me not,? answered Gerbert simply.

?Nay, my son,? said the prior, ?it doth concern thee, and deeply, too.

Know that it is thy death-warrant, boy! The Freiherr has requested me to send thee to the wars in Palestine, and so to place thee that death will be a certainty. This he asks in the name of our ancient friends.h.i.+p and for the sake of our order, to which he has ever shown himself well disposed.?

Seeing the dismay and incredulity which were depicted in his listener?s face, the prior hastened to read aloud a pa.s.sage describing von Metternich?s discovery of his daughter?s love for the humble squire, and Gerbert could no longer doubt that his fate was sealed.

The prior looked at him kindly.