r
voices outside his cell, and a moment later the door was flung open and
Cuno entered unceremoniously.

"You are free, uncle, you are free! Imma and I have come to save you!"

Once more Imma flushed crimson at the revelation of her sex. The
astonished knight glanced with a new interest at her beautiful face,
with its rosy colour and downcast eyes. Turning to the Dean, he greeted
him cordially.

"You are free," he said. "Your nephews have promised to remain with me
as hostages till you have provided a ransom," Then, turning humorously
to Imma, he added: "Wilt thou be a soldier in my employ, youth? Or
wouldst have a place in my household?"

Imma vouchsafed no other reply than a deepening of her colour. She
must, however, have found words to utter when, later, the gallant knight
begged her seriously to remain at Windeck as his wife--for ere nightfall
the old Dean, grumbling and somewhat reluctant, was called upon to
consent to his niece's betrothal. This he did at length, when Imma had
joined her entreaties to those of her lover.

That night the grey hen was placed as the witch had advised, and it
was as she had said. With the dawn the Strassburgers arrived before the
castle, to find a newly made trench filled with the castle troopers.
When they learned that the Dean was free they called for a truce, and it
was not blood, but wine, which flowed that day, for all were invited to
share the wedding-feast of Imma and the knight of Windeck.

The Klingelkapelle

On the road between Gernsbach and Eberstein there once stood an ancient,
moss-grown cell. It had been occupied by a beautiful pagan priestess, a
devotee of Herthe, but when the preaching of the white monks had begun
to spread Christianity among the people she left the neighbourhood. In
passing by that way a Christian monk noticed the deserted retreat and
took possession of it, issuing at intervals to preach to the inhabitants
of the surrounding country.

One stormy night as he sat within his cell he fancied he heard a
pleading voice mingling with the roar of wind and waters. Going to the
door, he beheld a young girl who seemed to be half dead with cold and
fatigue. The good monk, who was never indifferent to human suffering,
drew her quickly inside, bade her seat herself by the fire, and set food
and wine before her. When she had recovered a little from the effects of
the storm the hermit questioned her with regard to her presence in such
a lonely spot and at