he
might make known, even at the beginning of the tournament--"This knight,
bearing the image of a lady upon his breast, fights not for the hand
of the beautiful Hildegardis, but only for the joy of battle and for
knightly fame." Then he took out of his stables a beautiful Danish
steed, embarked it carefully on board a vessel, and sailed prosperously
to the opposite shore.

CHAPTER II.

In one of those fair beech-woods which abound in the fertile land of
Germany he fell in with a young and courteous knight of delicate form,
who asked the noble northman to share the meal which he had invitingly
spread out upon the greensward, under the shade of the pleasantest
boughs. Whilst the two knights sat peacefully together at their repast
they felt drawn towards each other and rejoiced when on rising from it,
they observed that they were about to follow the same road. They had not
come to this good understanding by means of many words; for the young
knight Edwald was of a silent nature, and would sit for hours with a
quiet smile upon his lips without opening them to speak. But even in
that quiet smile there lay a gentle, winning grace; and when from time
to time a few simple words of deep meaning sprang to his lips they
seemed like a gift deserving of thanks. It was the same with the little
songs which he sang ever and anon: they were ended almost as soon as
begun; but in each short couplet there dwelt a deep and winning spirit,
whether it called forth a kindly sigh or a peaceful smile. It seemed
to the noble Froda as if a younger brother rode beside him, or even a
tender, blooming son. They travelled thus many days together; and it
appeared as if their path were marked out for them in inseparable union;
and much as they rejoiced at this, yet they looked sadly at each other
whenever they set out afresh, or where cross-roads met, on finding that
neither took a different direction: nay, it seemed at times as if a tear
gathered in Edwald's downcast eye.

It happened on a time, that at their hostelry they met an arrogant,
overbearing knight, of gigantic stature and powerful frame, whose
speech and carriage proved him to be not of German but foreign birth. He
appeared to come from the land of Bohemia. He cast a contemptuous
smile on Froda, who, as usual, had opened the ancient book of Aslauga's
history, and was attentively reading in it. "You must be a ghostly
knight?" he said, inquiringly; and it appeared as if a whole