The Baron of Stramen sat down upon a bench, covering his face with his hands.
Here, in the sight of his ruined castle, and with the funeral tears of his only daughter undried upon his cheeks, he was happier than he had been for many a year: happier than when carousing in his father's halls--happier than when proudly embracing his darling child--happier than when engaged in avenging his brother--happier than when exulting in the victories of Rodolph! And Henry, too, shared in this blessed change wrought by his sister's prayers.

Each heart was too full for speech; words would have fallen meaningless and cold.
At this eloquent moment, a man, exhausted with running, and greatly agitated, abruptly entered the cottage.

He checked himself, however, and stood as if petrified at the sight of the group before him.

Father Omehr, who rightly judged that his rude intrusion must have been caused by no ordinary occurrence, rose, and in a whisper commanded him to explain himself.
"Bertha seems adying!" said the man.
"Where is she ?" asked the priest.
"About a mile from here--I will take you there." The Baron of Stramen seemed not to listen, for he sat motionless; but his son manifested much interest.
"Shall I go with you ?" he said to the missionary.
"No, my child, remain with your father." Albert de Hers had started up at the peasant's announcement, and followed Father Omehr out of the apartment.
"Permit me," he said, "to accompany you; I feel that the call is intended for me too.

This ring," he continued, holding up his finger, "was given me in my youth by Rodolph of Suabia; in a moment of folly and sin, I parted with it.