iba and her father hastened to
a little chamber at the base of the schloss, and thence they won to a
subterranean passage which was known only to themselves, and which led
to a distant place in the surrounding wilds.

Gazing at the blackened ruins, Sir Sibert felt as though henceforth the
world held for him no joy whatsoever. He refused to be comforted, so
convinced was he that Liba had perished in the terrible fray; but
one stormy evening, wandering in the neighbourhood of the castle,
he perceived two figures who seemed to him familiar. True, both were
haggard and tattered, but as he drew near to them the knight's pulses
quickened of a sudden, for he knew that his beloved stood before him.
Would she listen to him now? he wondered; or would she still imagine him
perfidious, and scorn the aid which he offered? While he was debating
with himself the storm increased, and the great peals of thunder
sounding overhead made the lover's heart beat faster. He drew the
all-important document from within his doublet and approached the pair.
"Heart of my heart" ... the words faltered to Sir Sibert's lips, but he
got no further; a great flash of lightning descended from on high, and
lo! Sir Balther and Liba lay stricken in death.

The broken-hearted lover built a chapel on the spot where his betrothed
had fallen, and here he dwelt till the end of his days. It would seem,
nevertheless, that those pious exercises wherewith hermits chiefly
occupy themselves were not his only occupation; for long after the
chapel itself had become a ruin its sight was marked by a great stone
which bore an inscription in rude characters--the single word "Liba."
Doubtless Sir Sibert had hewn this epitaph with his own hands.

Rolandseck and Nonnenwerth

The castle of Rolandseck stands opposite Drachenfels. Below them, on an
island in the Rhine, is the convent of Nonnenwerth.

Roland, Charlemagne's nephew, whose fame had spread throughout the
world, while riding one day on the banks of the Rhine, sought the
hospitality of the Lord of Drachenfels. Honoured at receiving such a
distinguished guest, the lord of the castle hastened to welcome him.

The ladies gave the brave knight as cordial a reception as their
lord, whose charming daughter seemed deeply impressed by the visitor's
knightly deportment. Roland's admiring glances lingered lovingly on the
fair maid, who blushed in sweet confusion, and whose tender looks alone
betrayed the presence of Cupid, w