Chapter III.

Toward evening, indeed, knights, bannerets, squires, and men-at-arms scattered themselves through the roads and the streets of the town. One of the most brilliant, though least numerous parties were making their way toward where the town became confounded with the country. Two nobles rode in advance, helmet on head and lance in hand, attired in brilliant armor, over which were thrown pourpoints of fine velvet. Behind, their squires bore their banners, one showing gilt battlements in a field gules, the armorial bearings of the barons of Arneck, the other the green oak and argent field of the rich counts of Broeck.

"My dear Otho," said the last named, throwing upon his young companion a glance of almost paternal affection, "I am well satisfied with thee; thy deeds shone bright in to-day's joustings. Thy brothers-in-arms had begun to laugh at thee, and to say thou hadst become but an image-maker. But to-day showed that the noble remained in thee."

"You are very kind, my lord count," replied the young knight.

"Not so, in sooth; I but look to thy interest, as in duty bound. Although thy domains, my friend, be of limited extent, thou hast a name ancient enough, a brilliant fame, and a brave enough form to make it a pleasure for many a rich and proud demoiselle to give thee her hand and dowry, and to change name and title for those of the barons of Arneck."

"You flatter me, lord count," replied Otho, raising himself in his saddle and joyfully stroking his mustache. "Hath one of those fair ladies of whom you speak deigned to cast a glance upon me?"

"More than one has done so, as well thou knowest," returned he of Broeck; "and even to-day the richest and most beautiful of them all, Gertrude of Horsheim, spoke and smiled graciously as she placed the crown upon thy brows."

"Lady Gertrude," said Otho, "hath truly a sweet voice and teeth of exceeding whiteness."

"Moreover, she hath two castles in the valley of the Murg and a thriving village in the plain. Her father is a stout lord, who, I well know, will not object to thee for a son-in-law. I know, Otho, that Master Sebald Koerner has a pretty daughter, and that thou art sometimes charged with wishing to espouse her. But wouldst thou truly, in the lightness of thy heart, add to the battlements of thy shield the chisel of such a father-in-law? They say that you make between you a complete company of stone-cutters, and that thou art the mason and he the sculptor. I wish thee well, my friend, and therefore do I scold and mock thee. I know that in thy heart's depth thou art as proud as thou art brave. So far thou art Sir Otho, Baron Otho, and all noble ladies smile upon and salute thee. Wouldst be called Otho the citizen, Otho the image-maker, and have all ladies turn their backs upon thee or point thee out as some wonder?"

"Truly, not so: and never will I give them reason for so doing," replied the young knight, with a face scarlet with shame.

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"Then," said De Broeck, "reply suitably to the invitation I am about to offer thee. In a fortnight I give a festival at my castle. There will be jousts in the great court, banquets in the great hall, balls and hunts, tilting for the ring, and shooting with the bow. The Countess Gertrude will be there, and thou canst enroll thyself among the number of her suitors. Siegfried of Thunn will be there, too; he bore the ring from thee lately, and thou hast thy revenge to take. All this, I hope, promises enough of pleasure, and is better than thy statues and images. So, Otho, thou wilt come? I may count upon thee!"

"Assuredly, my lord count, it is an honor and happiness to obey you," replied the young knight, taking leave of his protector with a courteous inclination.

The two escorts separated, and Otho, dismissing his, took the direction of the house of the old sculptor.

A few moments after, Mina and Johann saw him enter the atelier.

"Here I am at last, my dear master," said he, pressing the old artist's hands with real affection. "Did you think I had forgotten you in the midst of tiltings and passages-at-arms?"

"There was certainly reason that you might," replied Sebald, smiling. "In the midst of thrusts of lance and crushing of helms, you could scarce think of kneading clay or cutting statues."

"That may be, but a pupil can always find time to give his dearest, his oldest friend and most excellent master pleasure. And what think you, Master Koerner, I bring to-day?"

"Firstly, a crown, if rumor speaks truth," answered the sculptor; "secondly, some broken casques and battered harness. Those, I believe, are the gleanings of the tilt-yard."

"Then, master, you are wrong. I bring something different from all these. Would you know what? An order from the margrave, written with his own hand and sealed with his own seal, for Master Sebald Koerner to begin, with no greater delay than a month at most, the decoration of the chapel and the grand hall of his castle of Eberstein."

"How! The margrave choose me!" cried Sebald, his eyes lighting up with joy.

"And certes, my master, could he have made a better choice? After the tournament we met in his castle, and he there spoke of his castle of Eberstein and the embellishments he proposed, but he had not yet fixed his choice upon a sculptor. In short, I brought forward your name; I praised your St. Christopher; I recalled your Virgin Mary to his mind; some other nobles seconded me, and--here is the order written upon parchment."

"Thanks! thanks! my true friend! my dear pupil!" cried the old master, pressing the young knight's hand. "Through your good offices some memories of me may remain in my country. The thick walls of the castle of Eberstein will protect and preserve my statues, and they may perhaps be gazed on when time shall have crumbled into dust the saints I have carved for the pediments of the houses of the city, and the Christs I have raised by the roadsides. And it is you, noble Otho, who have brought to me the brightest crown, the sweetest joy, a sculptor can wear or taste--the assurance of the duration--mayhap the glory of his works!"

"Dear master, why so much of compliment and gratitude? Would I not do much more for the love of art and of you?"

And while he spoke, the knight's eyes sought those of Mina, smiling and blushing in a corner, and repeated in their silent language, "And for the love of thee, too, fair girl."

"This day is a day of gladness for me," continued old Sebald. "Johann conducted hither after vespers the prior of the Augustines, who hath confided to me the decoration of his chapel."

"Pah! a monastery of poor monks!" exclaimed Otho, shrugging his shoulders slightly, and throwing a disdainful glance on the humble Johann and his gray doublet. {490} "Not a very brilliant or lucrative undertaking, I should say. You will neither win a load of glory nor mountains of gold there, my dear master. But each brings what he finds and gives what he has," said the young knight, withdrawing his gaze from Johann and turning on his heel.

"I could find nothing better," said Johann in a tone of discouragement, "although I, too, would work for the glory and fortune of my master."

"And thy master accepts thy good intentions with joy, my son," answered old Sebald, taking his hand, "for he knows that they come from a devoted soul and a sincere heart. I have not only a noble art and a good daughter; I have also two brave pupils, two true friends. God be thanked, he hath made me a happy man!"

Happy, O poor Sebald! Ay, if thou hadst no daughter. Alas! why does Mina gaze with such simple admiration upon the noble countenance and gilt spurs of the knight? Why does she hang enchanted upon the sweet accents of his voice?

As long as he came regularly to the studio, Mina was smiling and happy; but one day he came not, and on the next she received a letter.