instantly ordered her palfrey to be prepared, and her attendants to mount.  ‘I leave this place,’ said she, ’which a good Christian ought never to have entered; I leave a house of which the master is a sorcerer, the mistress a demon who dares not cross her brow with holy water, and their trencher companion one who for a wretched pittance is willing to act as match-maker between a wizard and an incarnate fiend!’ She then departed, with rage in her countenance, and spite in her heart.  The Baron of Arnheim then stepped forward, and demanded of the knights and gentlemen around, if there were any among them who would dare to make good with his sword the infamous falsehoods thrown upon himself, his spouse, and his kinswoman.  There was a general answer, utterly refusing to defend the Baroness of Steinfeldt’s words in so bad a cause, and universally testifying the belief of the company that she spoke in the spirit of calumny and falsehood.  ’Then let that lie fall to the ground which no man of courage will hold up,’ said the Baron of Arnheim; ’only, all who are here this morning shall be satisfied whether the Baroness Hermione doth or doth not share the rites of Christianity.’  The Countess of Waldstetten made anxious signs to him while he spoke thus; and when the crowd permitted her to approach near him, she was heard to whisper,—­’O, be not rash! try no experiment! there is something mysterious about that opal talisman; be prudent, and let the matter pass by.’  The baron, who was in a more towering passion than well became the wisdom to which he made pretence, said, ‘Are you, too, such a fool?’ and retained his purpose.

“The Baroness of Arnheim at this moment entered the hall, looking just so pale from her late confinement as to render her lovely countenance more interesting, if less animated, than usual.  Having paid her compliments to the assembled company, she was beginning to inquire why Madame de Steinfeldt was not present, when her husband made the signal for the company to move forward to the chapel, and lent the baroness his arm to bring up the rear.  The chapel was nearly filled by the splendid company, and all eyes were bent on their host and hostess as they entered the place of devotion immediately after four young ladies, who supported the infant babe in a light and beautiful litter.  As they passed the threshold, the baron dipt his finger in the font-stone and offered holy-water to his lady, who accepted it, as usual, by touching his finger with her own.  But then, as if to confute the calumnies of the malevolent lady of Steinfeldt, with an air of sportive familiarity which was rather unwarranted by the time and place, he flirted on her beautiful forehead a drop or two of the moisture which remained on his own hand.  The opal, on which one of these drops had lighted, shot out a brilliant spark like a falling star, and became the instant afterwards lightless and colourless as a common pebble, while the beautiful baroness sunk on the floor of the chapel