CHAPTER XXIII.

How Sir Folko de Montfaucon beheld, for the first time, the fortress of Trautwangen.

Like the happy birds that return to their wonted nests in spring-tide, Sir Folko, with Gabrielle and Blanchefleur, were now passing over the Alps on their way back to Germany. After many wanderings through the world, over lakes and seas, mountains and valleys, they had found themselves irresistibly attracted by our native land; for we may truly say, that whatever strangers have once come thither, look on our vineyards and smiling landscapes as a garden of joy, and the chosen abode of true and faithful hearts. Moreover, almost all European nations must look on Germany as their father-land. Sir Folko and Gabrielle might indeed look with regret on this end of their journey, for a melancholy separation then awaited them, inasmuch as Sir Folko had never forgotten the rights of his friend, Otto von Trautwangen; and dared not attempt, by indissoluble bonds, to make Gabrielle his own. The stream of their lives had indeed flowed together on their long journey, that now seemed so short when they looked back on the time past that could never return; and the mild silent Blanchefleur, too well accustomed to resign all the dearest wishes of her own heart, could in her sadness wish for no better pastime, than to have travelled on, without ceasing, attended thus by her beloved brother and dearest confidante.

At length it came to pass one day, that their eyes were met by the bright gleaming of a river, winding through fertile fields and rich meadows; when, on inquiring its name, they found that they had arrived on the banks of the Danube. Glad that they were now in the far-famed and prosperous land of Swabia, they encamped at midday under the shade of some large elm-trees, not far from the river, unloaded their sumpter-mules, and seated themselves on the fragrant turf, while the squires handed round the brimming wine-cups.

All of a sudden, as they were thus occupied, a strange man, in a gypsey’s dress, with a dark-brown complexion, came before them. Hereupon Sir Folko threw at him some silver coins, and ordered him to retire, fearing that by his strange looks the ladies might be alarmed. Meanwhile, however, the Egyptian had taken from his shoulders a box, which he now opened, and lo! there was therein such store of sparkling gems, diamonds, rubies, and emeralds, all set in the purest gold, that the beautiful eyes of the two ladies were irresistibly attracted.

Thereupon Sir Folko began to speak with the stranger after a different manner. On whatever gem the ladies seemed to cast a favouring glance, he ordered that it should immediately be laid aside for them; and then, when a large collection was formed, he inquired what was to be the price of the jewels which he had thus chosen. The Egyptian demanded a price, which was beyond measure extortionate; but the chevalier, unused to the artifice of the merchant, and with his heart full of knightly generosity, immediately commanded one of his squires to bring the whole sum. Thereupon a broad grin came over the brown and yellow visage of the strange man; he pretended that he had made a mistake in his reckoning, looked over the jewels as if in deep reflection, and then demanded double the price for which he had before stipulated. This also the chevalier ordered to be paid to him; but, with unblushing impudence, the gipsy then said, “Sir knight, to say the truth, these goods are such as I cannot sell for any price; and no sum that you could offer would induce me to part with such treasures.” “Whatever their value may be, I am resolved to have them,” answered Sir Folko, who was now roused to anger. “As for thee, base miscreant, who would’st thus dare to insult two noble ladies, by withdrawing from sale the wares which thou hast already offered, thy punishment would be less than what is justly due, were I to take thy merchandize by violence out of thy hands, and bestow the price which thou first demanded’st on some neighbouring convent or hospital.” “Ay, ay,” said the merchant with a significant grin, “there have ere now been many such knights who lived by plunder; and who, if one might believe their own words, bestowed the treasures which they had acquired on the poor. The only question now is, whether thou art disposed to add one more to the number of this worshipful fraternity?” With the deep blush of scorn and anger on his visage, Sir Folko replied,--“Fellow, thou had’st best, in all haste, retire from our presence, and take thy goods along with thee. Moreover, if thou art a Christian, thou should’st thank God that, insolent and dishonest as thou art, thou art fallen into the hands of a brave and courteous knight, who is too kind-hearted to deal with thee as thou hast deserved.” The gypsey man packed up his jewels, threw the box over his shoulders, and retreated; after having gone a few paces, however, he turned round, and said, pointing to a fortress on a high cliff in the distance, “After a few hours, sir knight, you will perchance have arrived at yonder castle; and I shall deal with you honestly for whatever goods you are inclined to purchase; moreover, I shall treat you with many wonderful sights and comedies, such as you have never in your whole life beheld. It were well, however, if the two ladies were also present; for as to my tricks of art, they concern all of you, and I can fit them for every person, each after his own manner.” With these words, he vanished suddenly into a neighbouring thicket.

In silence the three travellers looked towards the fortress on the distant cliff, to which the stranger had pointed. Amid the green foliage of oak-trees, that were perchance a thousand years old, the venerable ramparts were visible, in their stern grandeur and strength; the moss-grown pinnacles of the watch-towers rose proudly into the blue firmament; and, on the highest summit of the keep, there was planted a great golden cross, that now gleamed from afar in the sun.

“Thither we must now bend our way,” said Gabrielle in a low but determined tone. “Whosoever that mysterious man may be, from whom we have received this warning, a secret voice speaks within my heart, and tells me, that our fate must there be decided.”

Thereupon Blanchefleur bowed her head in token of assent, and De Montfaucon, with his mind filled with mysterious expectations, commanded the squires immediately to break up the camp, and prepare for setting forward on their journey.

Meanwhile a labourer happened to pass by, and the chevalier inquired of him the name of yonder fortress.

“It is the renowned castle of Trautwangen,” said the bauer.

At these words Sir Folko and Gabrielle trembled as they looked at each other; but, as if with one voice, both of them firmly repeated,--“We must hasten thither, for there must the fate of all of us be decided.”