him to drop the irritating tone which he had assumed, and in an altered voice he begged him not to give up his cause as lost without resistance.  For his daughter’s sake old Herr Ortlieb must lend his aid.  Els, with whom he had just spoken, would cling firmly to Wolff, and try to induce her father to do all that was possible for her lover’s house.  He would endeavour to settle with his own creditors himself.  His sharp sword and strong arm would be welcome everywhere, and the booty he won——­Here he was interrupted by the grandmother’s query in a tone of cutting contempt:  “Booty?  On the highway, do you mean?”

Once more the attack from the hostile old woman rendered the knight’s decision easier, for, struggling not to give way to his anger, he answered:  “Rather, I think, in the Holy Land, in the war against the infidel Saracens.  At any rate, my presence would be more welcome anywhere than in this house, whose roof shelters you, Countess.  If, Herr Casper, you intend to share with my wife and the twins what is left after the old wealth has gone, unfortunately, I cannot permit you to do so.  I will provide for them also.  True, it was your duty; for ever since Isabella became my wife you have taken advantage of my poverty and impaired my right to command her.  That must be changed from this very day.  I have learned the bitter taste of the bread which you provide.  I shall confide them to my uncle, the Knight Heideck.  He was my dead mother’s only brother, and his wife, as you know, is the children’s godmother.  They are childless, and would consider it the most precious of gifts to have such boys in the castle.  My deserted wife must stay with him, while I—­I know not yet in what master’s service—­provide that the three are not supported only by the charity of strangers—–­”

“Oh, Seitz, Seitz!” interrupted Isabella, in a tone of urgent entreaty.  She had risen from her cushions, and was hurrying towards him.  “Do not go!  You must not go so!”

Her tall figure nestled closely against him as she spoke, and she threw her arms around his neck; but he kissed her brow and eyes, saying, with a gentleness which surprised even her:  “You are very kind, but I cannot, must not remain here.”

“The children, the little boys!” she exclaimed again, gazing up at him with love-beaming eyes.  Then his tortured heart seemed to shrink, and, pressing his hand on his brow, he paused some time ere he answered gloomily:  “It is for them that I go.  Words have been spoken which appeal to me, and to you, too, Isabella:  ’See that the innocent little creatures are reared to be unlike their unhappy father.’  And the person who uttered them——­”

“A sage, a great sage,” giggled the countess, unable to control her bitter wrath against the man whom she hated; but Siebenburg fiercely retorted: 

“Although no sage, at least no monster spitting venom.”

“And you permit this insult to be offered to your grandmother?” Frau Rosalinde Eysvogel wailed to her daughter as piteously as if the injury had been inflicted on herself.  But Isabella only clung more closely to her husband, heeding neither her mother’s appeal nor her father’s warning not to be deluded by Siebenburg’s empty promises.