This concerns thee, beloved pilgrim; and do thou, my Sintram, with a joyful trust in God, take encouragement and example from it." "More than twenty years ago," began the castellan, at a sign from the chaplain--"more than twenty years ago I was a bold shepherd, driving my flock up the mountains.

A young knight followed me, whom they called Weigand the Slender.

He wanted to buy of me my favourite little lamb for his fair bride, and offered me much red gold for it.

I sturdily refused.
Over-bold youth boiled up in us both.

A stroke of his sword hurled me senseless down the precipice.
"Not killed ?" asked the pilgrim in a scarce audible voice.
"I am no ghost," replied the castellan, somewhat morosely; and then, after an earnest look from the priest, he continued, more humbly: "I recovered slowly and in solitude, with the help of remedies which were easily found by me, a shepherd, in our productive valleys.