CHAPTER XX.

How Sir Otto thought that he had once more seen Bertha von Lichtenried.

One day, it happened that they were resting beneath the shade of some lofty elm-trees, at the base of a hill, on whose summit there was situated a richly-endowed and magnificent chapel, which stood retired on that solitary place, though it was the resort of devout pilgrims from many villages. Only the quiet small mansion of a priest stood hard by, in order that some one should always be present to open the gates for pious believers, and to protect the building from neglect and injury.

It was a pleasure to behold how the noble travellers sat under the green elm-trees,--their horses and sumpter-mules feeding on the meadow around them,--and their glittering shields and weapons hanging from the branches. It was now the sultry hour of noon, and the golden cups, filled with the cooling and refreshing wine of Rudisheimer and the Mosel, were handed merrily round, while the squires began for pastime to sing aloud many a pleasant old ballad, so that the notes echoed far and near through the green wood. But Sir Otto, who was wont to be so gay and cheerful of mood, remained at this time silent and lost in deep thought. The severe life of his brother, Ottur of Norway, as a Benedictine monk, perplexed him strangely; and he knew not whether he should mourn, because such a brave youth was lost to the world, or rejoice beyond all measure at his conversion to the Christian faith. All the while that he thus meditated, lo! the church on the hilltop, with its lofty vaulted roof and tall pillars, was before him, and attracted him as if by some mysterious power; so that he could not turn away his eyes from the building. Perceiving this, Hildiridur said to him,--“Go thither in God’s name, and without more hesitation. Methinks there is now a deep impulse in thy heart, and thou should’st gladly wend thy way to yonder holy place, and pray to the Giver of all good. Go then, and we shall wait here in this pleasant grove till thou return’st to us.”--Sir Otto bowed thankfully and in silence, and straightway went up the mountain.

The four gates of the chapel were open; and, as he entered and walked through the solemn aisles, joy and deep veneration ruled in his heart; all that had before perplexed him, and weighed so heavily on his spirit, now seemed vanished away. For a long time he walked to and fro amid the solemn statues and pictures, illuminated by the bright summer-light that fell in varied gleams through the painted windows, and all the while he persisted in earnest child-like prayer. Through his whole life he had never been more happy than in these moments, though this might be to himself mysterious, since he knew not any outward event that had occurred to him over which he should thus rejoice. On whatsoever he reflected, whether it were on the conversion of Ottur, and his transformation into the monk Zelotes,--on the party he had left, and their near approach to his home on the beloved banks of the Danube,--it seemed as if a roseate light of joy prevailed in every feeling.

At length it happened, that, among the pictures and monuments of the church, his eyes rested on a wonderful shrine, such as he had never before seen, made of golden bars and glass-work, as if some precious relic were deposited therein. On coming nearer, he beheld through the glass a female form, of divine and indescribable beauty. The expression of her features indeed might be compared to the influence of a day in early spring-tide. Joyful anticipations and confidence in heaven, blended with child-like humility and deep earnest reflection. She looked steadfastly on a large book that was open before her, and on which her snow-white hands were folded. Her long fringed eyelids, therefore, were half-closed, like the clouds that rest on the summer-sky, without wholly veiling its deep-blue lustre. Bands of pearls were interwoven in her light-brown hair,--a high lace ruff was round her bosom,--her black velvet robe was adorned with gold embroidery, diamonds, and emeralds. Gazing anxiously on this beautiful apparition, and coming right opposite to the shrine, he perceived, for the first time, that there stood behind her a tall figure of a man, in a magnificent foreign dress, with sternly lowering brows and fiery eyes, who was stationed there as her guardian and protector.--“He represents, no doubt, the blessed St Joseph,” said Otto to himself; and, without thinking more of the frowning man, or his strange attire, he fixed all his attention again on the female figure--when, all at once, the impression vibrated like lightning through his heart, that the features he now saw were those of his dearly-beloved cousin, Bertha von Lichtenried, though truly her countenance was hallowed and glorified by a celestial light, such as till now he had never beheld but in dreams. Hereupon he closed his dazzled eyes, and remained for a space half unconscious of what passed around him. Again looking up, he found the shrine void and deserted; neither the beautiful saint nor her protector were to be seen; so that, mournful and discontented, he left the now desolate church in a mood of mind the most opposite that could be imagined to that under whose influence he had trod the same aisles but a short space before. He could not help believing that Bertha had died even at this hour, and had revealed herself to him for a moment in that angelic attitude and form but to shadow forth her last farewell.

When he came back to his friends in the elm-grove beneath, he found them all eagerly expecting his arrival, and lost in conjectures what could have detained him so long. Hildiridur too looked anxiously towards a carriage-road, from which, on the other side of the hill, there arose a pleasant sound of music, that always drew nearer and nearer. Soon afterwards there appeared a numerous band of horsemen in strange eastern attire, with red turbans, adorned with plumes of heron’s feathers, on their heads, and playing, as they rode, on all sorts of instruments,--flutes, schallmeys, trumpets, and oboes. Some beat time with golden cymbals; others with kettledrums of silver, hung with red embroidered drapery;--their music was timed like that of a march, and yet the sounds were soft and joyous rather than threatening and martial. Besides the musicians, there appeared many warriors, who, in their golden shirts of mail, that gleamed in the sun, with their light javelins made of cane-tree, and their broad crooked sabres, were almost like people of another world. But the eyes of the lookers-on could not long wander through this multitude; for, lo! there appeared, on a magnificent black charger, a knight rather advanced in years, of such heroic dignity of aspect and demeanour, that, both in this respect and by the splendour of his eastern attire, he cast all the other warriors into shade. From them too he was distinguished by a large golden cross, ornamented with diamonds and other precious gems, which hung on his breast. By his side, on a snow-white palfrey, contrasting strangely with the knight’s black charger, rode a beautiful damsel attired in black velvet embroidered with pearls, on whom the three knights gazed with astonishment and delight; but we need only say, that Sir Otto now recognised in this damsel the saint that he had beheld in the church; and, in the warrior who rode with her, the same stern and frowning protector whom he had there looked upon as St Joseph.

The lady cast a significant glance on the silver armour of Sir Archimbald; then her eyes turned suddenly with a gaze of wonder on Sir Otto, in his dark mail with the eagle’s visor; and as she caught his features, a fleeting blush, beautiful as the first red of the morning, stole over her countenance. Suddenly she turned to her companion, with whom she spoke earnestly for a few moments; then the whole party proceeded on their route, and were soon lost to view in the deep recesses of a wooded valley.

“We must follow them!” cried Sir Otto, as if just then awakening from a prophetic dream; whereupon Sir Archimbald and the sea-monarch shewed themselves willing, as usual, to join in every wish of their beloved comrade. Besides, the strangers by whom their curiosity had been thus attracted, seemed to have chosen the same road which they had themselves intended to pursue towards the fortress of Trautwangen. In order to be certain whether this were really so, Sir Archimbald mounted on a great fragment of rock, which lay as if it had fallen from the clouds, near the grove of elm-trees. Meanwhile Sir Otto, the sea-monarch, and Swerker, began in great haste to urge forward the saddling and bridling of their horses, and loading of the sumpter-mules. In vain did Hildiridur warn them, that a beginning made in such overhaste seldom leads to a good end; for they were all too impatient to listen to her mild and gentle admonitions.