ings."

"You weep, then, here?" said the chevalier, with visible interest; "for
here you do in all things like Jesus?"

_Matthew, (humbly.)_ At least, we desire to. Our pious lord--

_Theobald_. Gottfried is then a nobleman?

_Matthew_. My master is the Count of Winkelthal.

_Theobald, (with agitation.)_ The Count of Winkelthal, Matthew? Arnold,
the Lion, was then his son? Am I then, indeed, in the house of his
father?

_Matthew_. Arnold is the only son of my master; and he is not dead!

"Not dead!" exclaimed Theobald, extending his hands to the domestic.
"Tell me, Matthew, are you sure of this?"

_Matthew_. Arnold is living. God has preserved him, and he is here; he
is near you--yes, in the room adjoining!

"Now I can weep!" said Theobald, putting his hands over his face, and
sobbing aloud.

Matthew approached him with emotion, and Theobald, passing his arm
around the neck of the servant, leaned his head upon his bosom, weeping
abundantly, and saying,

"Have pity on me, Matthew. My soul is overwhelmed!"

"O, my lord!" said the Christian to him, "it is God himself who has
visited you and who calls you. Fear not; and let your tears flow before
him."

"Matthew! dear Matthew!" said Theobald, clasping his hands; "pray to God
for me!"

Matthew knelt beside the bed of the chevalier, and poured out his soul
in prayer. Theobald was still weeping when the servant rose; and it was
only by degrees that he became composed, and at last fell asleep.

CHAPTER VII.

ARNOLD INFORMED OF WHAT HAS TAKEN PLACE--HIS JOYFUL SURPRISE--ABSENCE OF
GOTTFRIED.

So passed the night in the chamber of Theobald. Arnold had slept
quietly. Ethbert did not at first speak of Theobald; and it was not
until morning, after his master had awakened and had with Ethbert lifted
his soul to God in prayer, that the servant pronounced the name of
Rothenwald, lamenting the ruin of that beautiful and splendid dwelling.

"It is the Lord!" replied Arnold: "'He casteth down and he raiseth up,
and his judgments are over all the earth.' But what bitterness for the
wife, alas! for the widow of the unfortunate Theobald! Imprudent man!
why did he flee? Would it not have been better for him to have
submitted to numbers, and been taken prisoner? He would now be living,
and his house would not have been burned!"

"Did his pursuers say," asked Ethbert, "that he was dead?"

_Arnold_. They were two of our chevaliers; and I was informed, that
thei