shall meet again."

As soon as the door closed on the Templar, the Greek rose, and pacing
the room, said, "Selfish, selfish! how could I ever trust him? Yet I
dare not brave Otho alone. Surely it was his step that disturbed us in
our yesterday's interview? Nay, I will fly. I can never want a
companion."

She clapped her hands; a young page appeared; she threw herself on her
seat and wept bitterly.

The page approached, and love was mingled with his compassion.

"Why weepest thou, dearest lady?" said he; "is there aught in which
Conrad's services--services!--ah thou hast read his heart--his devotion
may avail?"

Otho had wandered out the whole day alone; his vassals had observed
that his brow was more gloomy than its wont, for he usually concealed
whatever might prey within. Some of the most confidential of his
servitors he had conferred with, and the conference had deepened the
shadow of his countenance. He returned at twilight; the Greek did not
honour the repast with her presence. She was unwell, and not to be
disturbed. The gay Templar was the life of the board.

"Thou carriest a sad brow to-day, Sir Otho," said he; "good faith, thou
hast caught it from the air of Liebenstein."

"I have something troubles me," answered Otho, forcing a smile, "which
I would fain impart to thy friendly bosom. The night is clear and the
moon is up, let us forth alone into the garden."

The Templar rose, and he forgot not to gird on his sword as he followed
the knight.

Otho led the way to one of the most distant terraces that overhung the
Rhine.

"Sir Templar," said he, pausing, "answer me one question on thy
knightly honour. Was it thy step that left my lady's bower yester-eve
at vesper?"

Startled by so sudden a query, the wily Templar faltered in his reply.

The red blood mounted to Otho's brow. "Nay, lie not, sir knight; these
eyes, thanks to God! have not witnessed, but these ears have heard from
others of my dishonour."

As Otho spoke, the Templar's eye resting on the water, perceived a boat
rowing fast over the Rhine; the distance forbade him to see more than
the outline of two figures within it. "She was right," thought he;
"perhaps that boat already bears her from the danger."

Drawing himself up to the full height of his tall stature, the Templar
replied haughtily:

"Sir Otho of Sternfels, if thou hast deigned to question thy vassals,
obtain from them only an answer. It is not to contradict su