CHAPTER 1.

The vesper bells had already died away, yet Heinz was still listening eagerly to the aged Minorite, who was now relating the story of St. Francis, his breach with everything that he loved, and the sorrowful commencement of his life.  The monk could have desired no more attentive auditor.  Only the young knight often looked out of the window in search of Biberli, who had not yet returned.

The latter had gone to the Ortlieb mansion with Katterle.

The runaway maid, whose disappearance, at old Martsche’s earnest request, had already been “cried” in the city, had no cause to complain of her reception; for the housekeeper and the other servants, who knew nothing of her guilt, greeted her as a favourite companion whom they had greatly missed, and Biberli had taken care that she was provided with answers to the questions of the inquisitive.  The story which he had invented began with the false report that a fire had broken out in the fortress.  This had startled Katterle, and attracted her to the citadel to aid her countrywoman and her little daughter.  Then came the statement that she spent the night there, and lastly the tale that in the morning she was detained in the Swiss warder’s quarters by a gentleman of rank—­perhaps the Burgrave himself—­who, after he had learned who she was, wished to give her some important papers for Herr Ernst Ortlieb.  She had waited hours for them and finally, on the way home, chanced to meet Biberli.

At first the maid found it difficult to repeat this patchwork of truth and fiction in proper order, but the ex-schoolmaster impressed it so firmly on his sweetheart’s mind that at last it flowed from her lips as fluently as his pupils in Stanstadt had recited the alphabet.

So she became among the other servants the heroine of an innocent adventure whose truth no one doubted, least of all the housekeeper, who felt a maternal affection for her.  Some time elapsed ere she could reach the Es; they were still with their mother, who was so ill that the leech Otto left the sick-room shaking his head.

As soon as he had gone Biberli stopped Els, who had accompanied the physician outside the door of the sufferer’s chamber, and earnestly entreated her to forgive him and Katterle—­who stood at his side with drooping head, holding her apron to her eyes and persuade her father also to let mercy take the place of justice.

But kind-hearted Els proved sterner than the maid had ever seen her.

As her mother had been as well as usual when she woke, they had told her of the events of the previous night.  Her father was very considerate, and even kept back many incidents, but the invalid was too weak for so unexpected and startling a communication.  She was well aware of her excitable daughter’s passionate nature; but she had never expected that her little “saint,” the future bride of Heaven, would be so quickly fired with earthly love, especially for a stranger knight.  Moreover, the conduct of Eva who, though she entreated her forgiveness, by no means showed herself contritely ready to resign her lover, had given her so much food for thought that she could not find the rest her frail body required.