th the intention of cutting off communication.
The legend has undoubtedly become sophisticated by literary influences,
and was so altered by one Joseph Kugelgen as to change its purport
entirely. It is the modern version of the legend we give here, in
contradistinction to that given in the chapter on the Folklore and
Literature of the Rhine (see pp. 84 et seq.).

The Brothers

Heinrich and Conrad were the sons of Kurt, a brave knight who
had retired from the wars, and now dwelt in his ancestral castle
Liebenstein. The brothers were alike in all matters pertaining to arms
and chivalry. But otherwise they differed, for Heinrich, the elder, was
quiet and more given to the arts of peace; whereas Conrad was gay, and
inclined to like fighting for fighting's sake.

Brought up along with them was Hildegarde, a relative and an orphan,
whom the brothers believed to be their sister. On reaching manhood,
however, their father told them the truth concerning her, expressing the
wish that one of them should marry the maiden.

Nothing loath, both brothers wooed Hildegarde, but Conrad's ardent,
impulsive nature triumphed over Heinrich's reserved and more steadfast
affection. In due course preparations were made for the marriage
festival, and a new castle, Sterrenberg, was raised for the young couple
adjacent to Liebenstein. Heinrich found it hard to be a constant witness
of his brother's happiness, so he set out for the Holy Land. Soon after
his departure the old knight became ill, and died on the day that the
new castle was completed. This delayed the marriage for a year, and as
the months passed Conrad became associated with loose companions, and
his love for Hildegarde weakened.

Meantime news came that Heinrich had performed marvellous deeds in the
Holy Land, and the tidings inflamed Conrad's zeal. He, too, determined
to join the Crusades, and was soon on the way to Palestine.

However, he did not, like his brother, gain renown--for he had not the
same incentive to reckless bravery--and he soon returned. He was
again to prove himself more successful in love than in war, for at
Constantinople, having fallen passionately in love with a beautiful
Greek lady, he married her.

One day Hildegarde was sitting sorrowful in her chamber, when she beheld
travellers with baggage moving into the empty Sterrenberg. Greatly
astonished, she sent her waiting-maid to make inquiries, and learned to
her sorrow that it was the returning Conrad,