e, Conrad," whispered the Baroness.

A pause followed. The Baron sat looking thoughtfully down into the
Baroness' face. A moment more, and he might have promised what she
besought; a moment more, and he might have been saved all the bitter
trouble that was to follow. But it was not to be.

Suddenly a harsh sound broke the quietness of all into a confusion of
noises. Dong! Dong!--it was the great alarm-bell from Melchior's Tower.

The Baron started at the sound. He sat for a moment or two with his hand
clinched upon the arm of his seat as though about to rise, then he sunk
back into his chair again.

All the others had risen tumultuously from the table, and now stood
looking at him, awaiting his orders.

"For my sake, Conrad," said the Baroness again.

Dong! Dong! rang the alarm-bell. The Baron sat with his eyes bent upon
the floor, scowling blackly.

The Baroness took his hand in both of hers. "For my sake," she pleaded,
and the tears filled her blue eyes as she looked up at him, "do not go
this time."

From the courtyard without came the sound of horses' hoofs clashing
against the stone pavement, and those in the hall stood watching and
wondering at this strange delay of the Lord Baron. Just then the door
opened and one came pushing past the rest; it was the one-eyed Hans.
He came straight to where the Baron sat, and, leaning over, whispered
something into his master's ear.

"For my sake," implored the Baroness again; but the scale was turned.
The Baron pushed back his chair heavily and rose to his feet. "Forward!"
he roared, in a voice of thunder, and a great shout went up in answer as
he strode clanking down the hall and out of the open door.

The Baroness covered her face with her hands and wept.

"Never mind, little bird," said old Ursela, the nurse, soothingly; "he
will come back to thee again as he has come back to thee before."

But the poor young Baroness continued weeping with her face buried in
her hands, because he had not done that thing she had asked.

A white young face framed in yellow hair looked out into the courtyard
from a window above; but if Baron Conrad of Drachenhausen saw it from
beneath the bars of his shining helmet, he made no sign.

"Forward," he cried again.

Down thundered the drawbridge, and away they rode with clashing hoofs
and ringing armor through the gray shroud of drilling rain.

The day had passed and the evening had come, and the Baroness and her
women sat besid