nd how curiously wrought and set with rare gems, and its
brilliancy and beauty beguiled her of her foreboding, and she asked no
questions of the stories told of it or of the nature of its enchantment.

Quickly on the betrothal followed the marriage and the leave-taking.
With tears in her eyes Itha rode away with her lord, looking back often
to the old castle and gazing farewell on the pleasant land and the
fields and villages she should not see again for, it might be, many
long years. But by her side rode the Count, ever gay and tender, and
he comforted her in her sadness, and lightened the way with loving
converse, till she put from her all her regret and longing, and made
herself happy in their love.

[Illustration: _Itha rode away with her lord_]

So they journeyed through the rocks and wildwood of the Schwartzwald,
and came in view of the blue waters of the lake of Constance glittering
in the sun, and saw the vast mountain region beyond with its pine
forests, and above the forests the long blue mists on the high
pastures, and far over all, hanging like silvery summer clouds in the
blue heavens, the shining peaks of the snowy Alps. And here, at last,
they were winding down the fruitful valley of the Thur, and yonder,
perched on a rugged bluff, rose the stern walls of Castle Toggenburg,
with banners flying from the turrets, and the rocky roadway strewn with
flowers, and vassals and retainers crowding to welcome home the bride.

Now, for all his tenderness and gaiety and sweetness in wooing, the
Count Heinrich was a hasty and fiery man, quickly stirred to anger and
blind rage, and in his storms of passion he was violent and cruel. Not
long after their home-coming--woe worth the while!--he flashed out ever
and anon in his hot blood at little things which ruffled his temper,
and spoke harsh words which his gentle wife found hard to bear, and
which in his better moments he sincerely repented. Very willingly she
forgave him, but though at first he would kiss and caress her,
afterwards her very forgiveness and her meekness chafed and galled his
proud spirit, so that the first magical freshness of love faded from
their life, even as the dew dries on the flower in the heat of the
morning.

Not far from the castle, in a clearing in the woods, nestled the little
convent and chapel of Our Lady in the Meadow, and thither, attended by
one of her pages, the Countess Itha went daily to pray for her husband,
that he might