e pilgrim's
apartment, and there watched her through a crack in the door.

The alchemist was bending over a crucible when Elizabeth entered.

"Ah, thou hast come," he said. "I hope thou art prepared to do as I bid
thee? If that is so, I will restore the gold to thy father--his own gold
and his master's. If thou art willing to sacrifice thine honour, thy
father's honour shall be restored; if thy life, he shall have the money
he needs."

"Away, wretch!" cried Elizabeth indignantly. "I will give my life for my
father, but I will not suffer insult." With a shrug of his shoulders the
alchemist turned to his crucible.

"As thou wilt," he said. "Prepare for the sacrifice."

Suddenly the kneeling maid caught up the alchemist's dagger and would
have plunged it into her heart; but ere she could carry out her purpose
the knight burst open the door, rushed into the room, and seized the
weapon. Elizabeth, overcome with the relief which his opportune arrival
afforded her, fainted in his arms.

While the young man frantically sought means to restore her the pilgrim
seized the opportunity to escape, and when the maid came to herself it
was to find the wretch gone and herself supported by a handsome young
knight, who was pouring impassioned speeches into her ear. His love and
tenderness awakened an answering emotion in her heart, and that very
night they were betrothed.

When the maiden's father was apprised of her recent peril he, too,
was grateful to her deliverer, and yet more grateful when his future
son-in-law pressed him to make use of his ample fortune.

The pilgrim was found drowned in the Rhine, and the bag of gold, which
he had carried away in his belt, was handed over to the Archbishop, to
whom the Treasurer confessed all.

And the good Archbishop, by way of confirming his forgiveness, gave a
handsome present to Elizabeth on her marriage with the knight.

The Legend of Boppard

Maidens had curious ways of revenging themselves on unfaithful lovers in
medieval times, as the following legend of Boppard would show.

Toward the end of the twelfth century there dwelt in Boppard a knight
named Sir Conrad Bayer, brave, generous, and a good comrade, but not
without his faults, as will be seen hereafter.

At that time many brave knights and nobles were fighting in the Third
Crusade under Frederick the First and Richard Coeur-de-Lion; but Sir
Conrad still remained at Boppard. He gave out that the reason for his
remaining