his arms, and slapped Eppelein, who carried a lantern
to show us the pools left by the storm of rain, again and again on the
shoulder, and thrust a purse full of money into his free hand, albeit
there was an end now of my grand-uncle's golden bounty. Nought would
persuade him to go back to the dancing-hall, to meet Ursula and her kin;
and when he presently departed from us we heard him along the street,
singing such a love song as no false heart may imagine, as glad as the
larks which would now ere long be soaring to the sky.

We got back to the great hall. The dancing and music were yet at their
height; our absence we deemed had scarce been marked; howbeit, as soon
as we entered, my grand-uncle made enquiry "where Herdegen might be,"
and when I looked about me at haphazard I beheld--my eyes did not cheat
me--I beheld Mistress Henneleinlein in one of the side-stalls.

No man told me, yet was I sure and certain that she was saying somewhat
which concerned me, and presently I discerned in the dim back-ground the
feathered plume which Ursula had worn at the dance. My heart beat with
fears; every word spoken by the old Dame would of a surety do us a
mischief. Hans mocked at my alarms and at a maid's folly in ever taking
to herself matters which concern her not.

Then Ursula came forth into the hall again, and how she swept past us on
Junker Henning's arm.

A young knight of the Palatinate now led me out to a dance I had
erewhile promised him.

We stopped for lack of breath. The festival was over; yet did Ursula
and the Junker walk together. He was hearkening eagerly to all she might
say, and on a sudden he clapped his hand into hers which she held out to
him, and his eyes, which he had held set on the floor, fired up with a
flash. Presently he and the Knight von Rochow made their way, arm in
arm through the press, and both were laughing and pulling their long red
beards.

I still clung to my lover's arm and entreated him to take me to speak
with Junker Henning, inasmuch as I sorely wanted to question him; but
the Junker diligently kept far from us. Nevertheless we at last stayed
him, and after that I had enquired, as it were in jest, whether he
had healed his old feud with Mistress Ursula and concluded a truce, or
peradventure made peace with her, he answered me, in a tone all unlike
his wonted frank and glad manner, that this for a while must remain
privy to him and her, and that we should scarce be the first to who