ted to their desolate condition after his death, he
raised his arms to heaven, exclaiming, "I will ascend there, and plead
your cause before a God supremely good!"

On the twenty-fifth of May, 1085, were uttered those memorable words
that smote the forehead of guilty Europe as if with a burning hand: "I
have loved justice and hated iniquity--therefore I die in exile."

* * * * *

Years passed by. Peace smiled once more in the lordships of Hers and
Stramen. A new dwelling had risen from the ashes of Stramen Castle. The
Church of the Nativity was repaired, and again rose in beauty over the
faithful who flocked there to worship. Yet there was a stranger priest
at the altar, and often after Mass the people would gather around a
marble slab just before the altar, on which was written:

"_Credo quod Redemptor meus vivit._"

This was the tomb of Father Omehr; his epitaph was written and treasured
in the hearts of all who knew him, and, transmitted from sire to son,
required no foreign chisel to deepen the impression upon the living
tablet.

The Lords of Stramen and Hers were often together, and were beloved by
their vassals for their uniform courtesy and charity. Their hairs were
whitening, and when Sir Sandrit walked to the churchyard he leaned upon
Henry's arm.

* * * * *

Years passed by. Henry IV, worn down by misfortune and the rebellion of
his eldest son, for his own offspring held up the poisoned chalice to
his lips, had followed his sainted antagonist to the eternal tribunal,
and his body had been cast out as excommunicated from its sepulchre. The
male line of the Franconian emperors had expired in Henry V; Lothaire of
Saxony, a zealous champion of Rome, had been raised to the throne. Time
was revealing that Gregory VII was triumphant even in death, for the
right of investiture was conceded to the Pope, and the celibacy of the
clergy strictly enforced.

The Lords of Stramen and Hers were sleeping with their fathers. The hill
on which the Pilgrim's Chapel stood was no longer crowned with a castle,
but with a monastery occupied by Benedictine monks. The whole lordship
of Hers was blooming under their munificent administration. Humbert,
whose long locks had now seen eighty winters, still lived at the foot of
the hill, surrounded by a goodly number of stalwart sons and fair-haired
daughters. And sometimes in the long winter evenings, when the fire
spa