"Good night," he added, seeing that she did not move.
"Who is this you have brought us ?" continued the woman, pointing to the duke.
"That," replied Father Omehr, "is Rodolph, Duke of Suabia, and King of Arles." Bertha approached the duke, knelt down, and kissed his hand.

She then walked slowly up the ravine.
"A singular being," exclaimed the duke, as they gave their horses the spur, for it was growing late.

"I have not seen any one thus afflicted for many years, and it is always a painful sight." The two horsemen were now at the church, but they passed it and kept on to the castle; and hearty was the welcome of the noble duke to the halls of Stramen castle.

Sir Sandrit's eyes gleamed with delight as he saluted his liege; Henry's cheek flushed with pleasure when Rodolph, the flower of German chivalry, spoke of his youthful prowess at Hohenburg; the Lady Margaret loved the duke for the praises he heaped upon her brother.

Nor were the domestics gazing idly on; but kept gliding to and fro, and hurrying here and there until the genial board was spread, and the fish, fresh from the Danube, smoked, and the goblet gleamed.
As it was near midnight when they sat down, Father Omehr felt at liberty to leave the room without ceremony.