"Otto," he said sternly, "go join the ladies: it becomes not a young boy to remain in the company of gallant knights after dinner." The noble Childe with manifest unwillingness quitted the room, and the Margrave, taking his lady's place at the head of the table, whispered to Sir Ludwig, "Hildebrandt will be here to-night to an evening-party, given in honor of your return from Palestine.

My good friend--my true friend--my old companion in arms, Sir Gottfried! you had best see that the fiddlers be not drunk, and that the crumpets be gotten ready." Sir Gottfried, obsequiously taking his patron's hint, bowed and left the room.
"You shall know all soon, dear Ludwig," said the Margrave, with a heart-rending look.

"You marked Gottfried, who left the room anon ?" "I did." "You look incredulous concerning his worth; but I tell thee, Ludwig, that yonder Gottfried is a good fellow, and my fast friend.

Why should he not be! He is my near relation, heir to my property: should I" (here the Margrave's countenance assumed its former expression of excruciating agony),--"SHOULD I HAVE NO SON." "But I never saw the boy in better health," replied Sir Ludwig.
"Nevertheless,--ha! ha!--it may chance that I shall soon have no son." The Margrave had crushed many a cup of wine during dinner, and Sir Ludwig thought naturally that his gallant friend had drunken rather deeply.

He proceeded in this respect to imitate him; for the stern soldier of those days neither shrunk before the Paynim nor the punch-bowl: and many a rousing night had our crusader enjoyed in Syria with lion-hearted Richard; with his coadjutor, Godfrey of Bouillon; nay, with the dauntless Saladin himself.
"You knew Gottfried in Palestine ?" asked the Margrave.
"I did." "Why did ye not greet him then, as ancient comrades should, with the warm grasp of friendship?
It is not because Sir Gottfried is poor?
You know well that he is of race as noble as thine own, my early friend!" "I care not for his race nor for his poverty," replied the blunt crusader.