no disrespectful word of your lovely countrywoman until you yourself
release my tongue."

"That will never be done!" Wolf eagerly protested, "and the mere
supposition would force me to bare my sword, if it were not you----"

"If it were not sheer madness for your thumb-long parade dagger to cross
blades with my good sword," laughed Malfalconnet. "Ere you drew your
rapier, I think your lust for murder would have fled. So let us leave our
blades in their sheaths and permit my curiosity, to ask just one more
question: What consideration induces you, Sir Knight, to constrain
yourself to discreet peaceableness toward me, who, Heaven knows, excited
your ire with no evil intent?"

"The same which restrains you from the duel with me," replied Wolf
quietly; and then, in a warmer tone, continued: "You are dear to me
because you have shown me kindness ever since I came to the court. But
you are the last person who would admit that gratitude should fetter the
hand which desires to defend itself. In comparison with you, Baron, I am
but an insignificant man, but noble blood flows in my veins as well as in
yours, and I, too, am no coward. Perhaps you suspect it because I have
accepted many things from you which I would overlook from no one else.
But I know that, however your jesting tongue sins against me, it has
nothing to do with your disposition, whose kindness has ever been proved
when the occasion offered. But you are now denying respect to a lady--"

"From that, too, my heart is as far removed as the starry sky above our
heads from the wretched pavement of this square," Malfalconnet
interrupted.

"Yes, Sir Knight, you judged me aright, and God save me from thinking or
speaking evil of a lady who is so dear to the heart of a friend!"

As he spoke he held out his right hand to his companion with gay yet
stately cordiality.

Wolf eagerly clasped it, and directly after both swung themselves from
their horses in the courtyard of the Golden Cross, Malfalconnet to inform
the Emperor of the successful result of his ride, the Ratisbon knight to
arrange for the proper stationing of the boy choir, and then, obedient to
Barbara's injunction, to go to the Grieb.

He knew the baron, and was aware that any one whom this chivalrous
gentleman assured of his friendship might rely upon it, but that he did
not spare even the most sacred things if he might hope thereby to win the
approval and arouse the mirth of his imperial master.

In