ck from his path, Warbeck left the
lists.

Leoline said no more; her divine errand was fulfilled. She looked long
and wistfully after the stately form of the knight of Liebenstein, and
then, with a slight sigh, she turned to Otho, "This is the last time we
shall meet on earth. Peace be with us all!"

She then, with the same majestic and collected bearing, passed on
towards the sisterhood; and as, in the same solemn procession, they
glided back towards the convent, there was not a man present--no, not
even the hardened Templar--who would not, like Otho, have bent his knee
to Leoline.

Once more Otho plunged into the wild revelry of the age; his castle was
thronged with guests, and night after night the lighted halls shone down
athwart the tranquil Rhine. The beauty of the Greek, the wealth of Otho,
the fame of the Templar, attracted all the chivalry from far and near.
Never had the banks of the Rhine known so hospitable a lord as the
knight of Sternfels. Yet gloom seized him in the midst of gladness,
and the revel was welcome only as the escape from remorse. The voice of
scandal, however, soon began to mingle with that of envy at the pomp
of Otho. The fair Greek, it was said, weary of her lord, lavished her
smiles on others; the young and the fair were always most acceptable
at the castle; and, above all, her guilty love for the Templar scarcely
affected disguise. Otho alone appeared unconscious of the rumour; and
though he had begun to neglect his bride, he relaxed not in his intimacy
with the Templar.

It was noon, and the Greek was sitting in her bower alone with her
suspected lover; the rich perfumes of the East mingled with the
fragrance of flowers, and various luxuries, unknown till then in those
northern shores, gave a soft and effeminate character to the room.

"I tell thee," said the Greek, petulantly, "that he begins to suspect;
that I have seen him watch thee, and mutter as he watched, and play with
the hilt of his dagger. Better let us fly ere it is too late, for his
vengeance would be terrible were it once roused against us. Ah, why did
I ever forsake my own sweet land for these barbarous shores! There, love
is not considered eternal, nor inconstancy a crime worthy death."

"Peace, pretty one!" said the Templar, carelessly; "thou knowest not the
laws of our foolish chivalry. Thinkest thou I could fly from a knight's
halls like a thief in the night? Why, verily, even the red cross would
not cover such