e eyes of both. "And now," said the prior at last, "we
must look to thy safety."

"I would not bring misfortune on thee," said Gerbert. "May I not go to
Palestine and win my way through with my sword?"

"It is impossible," said the elder man. "Von Metternich would see to it
that thou wert slain. Thou must go to Swabia, where a prior of our order
will look after thy safety in the meantime."

The same day Gerbert was conveyed to Swabia, where, for a time at least,
he was safe from persecution.

The Dance of Death

In the nunnery of Oberwoerth, on a pallet in a humble cell, Ida lay
dying. A year had gone past since she had been separated from her lover,
and every day had seen her grow weaker and more despondent. Forget
Gerbert? That would she never while life remained to her. Wearily
she tossed on her pallet, her only companion a sister of the convent.
Willingly now would the Freiherr give his dearest possessions to save
his daughter, but already she was beyond assistance, her only hope the
peace of the grave.

"I am dying, sister," she said to her attendant. "Nevermore shall I see
my dear Gerbert--ah! nevermore."

"Hush," murmured the nun gently, "stranger things have happened. All may
yet be well." And to divert the dying maid's attention from her
grief she recited tales of lovers who had been reunited after many
difficulties.

But Ida refused to be pacified.

"Alas!" she said, "I am betrothed, yet I must die unwed."

"Heaven forbid!" cried the pious nun in alarm. "For then must thou join
in the dance of death."

It was a popular belief in that district that a betrothed maiden who
died before her wedding was celebrated must, after her death, dance on
a spot in the centre of the island whereon no grass or herb ever
grew--that is, unless in the interval she took the veil. Every night at
twelve o'clock a band of such hapless maidens may be seen dancing in the
moonlight, doomed to continue their nocturnal revels till they meet with
a lover. And woe betide the knight who ventures within their reach! They
dance round and round him and with him till he falls dead, whereupon the
youngest maid claims him for her lover. Henceforth she rests quietly in
her grave and joins no more in the ghostly frolic.

This weird tradition Ida now heard from the lips of the nun, who herself
claimed to have witnessed the scenes she described.

"I beseech thee," said the sister, "do but join our convent, and all
will yet be well."