lley of the Rhine, but in Falkenstein castle no ray of sunshine
penetrated the gloom. Guta, pale and unhappy, sat within its walls,
weaving dreams which seemed destined never to be fulfilled. Sometimes
she saw her lover dying on a terrible battle-field with her name on
his lips, then again laughing and bright with a maiden from that
far-off island in his arms, talking derisively of his sweetheart on
the Rhine. She became more and more conscious that she had given him
her first love, and that he had cruelly deceived her. Sorrow and grief
had taken possession of her, and all her brother's efforts to amuse
her and to distract her attention were in vain.

A great sound of trumpets was heard one day on the highway, and a
troop of knights stopped at the castle. Guta saw the train of warriors
from her window, where she had been sitting weeping. The count with
chivalrous hospitality received them, and led them into the
banqueting-hall. His astonishment was great, when he recognised the
bold Briton, the victor at the tournament in Cologne, as leader of
this brilliant retinue, he who had broken his secret pledge to his
beloved sister. A dark glance took the place of the friendly
expression on his face. The Briton seemed to notice it and pressing
Philip's hand said cordially, "I am Richard of Cornwall, elected
Emperor of Germany, and I have come here to solicit the hand of your
sister Guta, who promised herself to me five months ago in Cologne. I
come late to redeem my promise, but my love is unchanged. I beg you to
announce my arrival to her without betraying my name."

Philip bowed deeply before the illustrious guest, and the retainers
respectfully retired to a distance. The great guest strode up and down
the room impatiently. Then the doors were suddenly thrown open, and a
beautiful figure appeared on the threshold, her face glowing with
emotion.

With a low cry Guta threw herself into her lover's arms, and the first
moments of their reunion were passed in silent happiness.

Philip now entered the room unperceived, and revealed the secret to
his sister. The maiden in great confusion and shame stole a look at
her lover's eyes, and he, drawing her gently to him, asked her to
share all--even his throne with him.

Shortly afterwards Richard celebrated his marriage with imperial
magnificence at the castle on the Rhine, which Philip thence forward
called Gutenfels, in honour of his sister.

OBERWESEL

The Seven Maidens