ing a visit from their liege."

"And the Lady Margaret, from whom not a knight can boast a token, though
all are striving to obtain one?"

"She has not altered since you saw her," answered the priest; "she was
always rather frail, but I do not see that she grows weaker."

"You cannot imagine," interposed Rodolph, "how much it grieves me to be
unable to reconcile these two families whom I so dearly love, and who,
in the camp or in the chamber, have proved themselves so devotedly
attached to me. I cannot even ask of one in the hearing of the other,
without giving offence or receiving a bitter answer. In all things else,
they are obedient as this horse to his rein; but the moment I speak of
reconciliation, the stubborn neck is arched, and will not relax either
for threats or entreaties."

"Your grief cannot equal mine," returned the missionary, "and I confess,
that without the hope of obtaining assistance from heaven, I should
despair of ever softening the determined animosity of the Baron of
Stramen. The Lord of Hers, perhaps, might be induced to throw enmity
aside, if his adversary relented; but he cannot be persuaded to sue for
peace, especially when his supplication might be unavailing."

"I cannot believe," continued the duke, "that my friend of Hers could
have killed Robert of Stramen, since he most positively denies it. It is
true that their relations were anything but amicable, yet Albert of Hers
would scorn to take a knight at a disadvantage, and would not attempt to
conceal the result of a mortal struggle. If Robert of Stramen fell by
his hand, it must have been in fair combat; and if in a fair tilt, there
is no motive for concealment."

"But the circumstances are strong enough to amount to conviction in an
angry brother's eyes. A woman, who has since lost her mind, named
Bertha, her father, and her husband, all swore to have seen Sir Albert
ride away from the spot a short time before the body was found; and the
scarf of the Lord of Hers was clutched convulsively in the dead man's
hand. The wound upon the head resembled that produced by hurling a mace,
and was of such a character that the head could not have been protected
by any steel piece. I do not consider this conclusive against the Lord
of Hers, or even incapable of explanation; but real and unequivocal
guilt itself could not justify the untiring malignity of the Baron of
Stramen. His brother's soul would be much better honored by his prayers,
than by