e planned a
journey for you."

The old man permitted himself another sip of the wine.

"Where?" he asked.

"Oh, an easy journey; no farther than the royal city of Frankfort, there
to wander among the scenes of your youth, and become interested for a
time in the activities of your fellow-men. You have so long consorted
with those inferior to you in intellect and learning that a meeting with
your equals--though I doubt if there are any such even in
Frankfort--must prove as refreshing to your mind as that old wine would
to your body, did you but obey me and drink it."

Father Ambrose slowly shook his head.

"From what I hear of Frankfort," he said, "it is anything but an
inspiring town. In my day it was indeed a place of cheer, learning, and
prosperity, but now it is a city of desolation."

"The rumors we hear, Father, may be exaggerated; and even if the city
itself be doleful, which I doubt, there is sure to be light and gayety
in the precincts of the Court and in the homes of the nobility."

"What have I to do with Court or palaces? My duty lies here."

"It may be," cried the girl archly, "that some part of your duty lies
there. If Frankfort is indeed in bad case, your sage advice might be of
the greatest benefit. Prosperity seems to follow your footsteps, and,
besides, you were once a chaplain in the Court, and surely you have not
lost all interest in your former charge?"

Again that quiet, engaging smile lit up the monk's emaciated features,
and then he asked a question with that honest directness which sometimes
embarrassed those he addressed:

"Daughter Hildegunde, what is it you want?"

"Well," said the girl, sitting very upright in her chair, "I confess to
loneliness. The sameness of life in this castle oppresses me, and in its
continuous dullness I grow old before my time. I wish to enjoy a month
or two in Frankfort, and, as doubtless you have guessed, I send you
forth as my ambassador to spy out the land."

"In such case, daughter, you should present your petition to that Prince
of the Church, the Archbishop of Cologne, who is your guardian."

"No, no, no, no!" cried the girl emphatically; "you are putting the
grapes into the barrel instead of into the vat. Before I trouble the
worthy Archbishop with my request, I must learn whether it is
practicable or not. If the city is indeed in a state of turbulence, of
course I shall not think of going thither. It is this I wish to
discover, but if you are a