e hair, which one often
sees represented on Roman triumphal columns, and which has been
preserved by the German peasant to this day. The regular features of
his open face, his grey and steady eyes, were full of reflective
manliness and sober repose.

When he, too, had reached the cella of the temple, and had greeted the
old man, the torch-bearer cried in an eager voice:

"Well, old Master Hildebrand, a fine adventure must it be to which thou
hast bidden us on such an inhospitable night, and in this wilderness of
art and nature! Speak--what is it?"

Instead of replying, the old man turned to the last comer and asked:
"Where is the fourth whom I invited?"

"He wished to go alone. He shunned us all. Thou knowest his manner
well."

"There he comes!" cried the beautiful youth, pointing to another side
of the hill. And, in fact, a man of very peculiar appearance now drew
near.

The full glare of the torch illumined a ghastly-pale face that seemed
almost bloodless. Long and shining black locks, like dark snakes, hung
dishevelled from his uncovered head. Arched black brows and long lashes
shaded large and melancholy dark eyes, full of repressed fire. A
sharply-cut eagle nose bent towards the fine and smoothly-shaven mouth,
around which resigned grief had traced deep lines.

His form and bearing were still young; but pain seemed to have
prematurely ripened his soul.

He wore a coat of mail and greaves of black steel, and in his right
hand gleamed a battle-axe with a long lance-like shaft. He merely
greeted the others with a nod of the head, and placing himself behind
the old man, who now bade them all four step close to the pillar on
which the torch was fixed, began in a suppressed voice:

"I appointed you to meet me here to listen to earnest words, which must
be spoken, unheard, to faithful men. I have sought for months in all
the nation, and have chosen you. You are the right men. When you have
heard me, you will yourselves feel that you must be silent about this
night's meeting."

The third comer, he with the steel helmet, looked at the old man with
earnest eyes.

"Speak," said he quietly, "we hear and are silent. Of what wilt thou
speak to us?"

"Of our people; of this kingdom of the Goths, which stands close to an
abyss!"

"An abyss!" eagerly cried the fair youth. His gigantic brother smiled
and lifted his head attentively.

"Yes, an abyss," repeated the old man; "and you alone can hold and save
it."