terrupted him, exclaiming in a tone of the
deepest indignation: "So be it, then. We will have a tilt with lances,
and then we will fight with our swords."

Siebenburg looked at him an instant, as if puzzled by his adversary's
sharp assault, but quickly regained his composure and answered: "Agreed!
In the joust--[single combat in the tourney]--with sharp weapons it will
soon appear who has right on his side."

"Right?" asked Heinz in astonishment, shrugging his shoulders
scornfully.

"Yes, right," cried the other furiously, "which you have ceased to
prize."

"So far from it," the Swiss answered quietly, "that before we discuss
the mode of combat with the herald I must ask you to recall the insults
with which yesterday, in your drunkenness, you injured the honour of a
virtuous maiden in the presence of other knights and gentlemen."

"Whose protector," laughed Seitz, "you seem to have constituted
yourself, by your own choice, in her bridegroom's place."

"I accept the position," replied Heinz with cool deliberation. "Not you,
nay, I will fight in Wolff Eysvogel's stead--and with his consent, I
think. I know him, and esteem him so highly----"

"That you invite his plighted bride to nocturnal love dalliance, and
exchange love messages with her," interrupted the other.

This was too much for Heinz Schorlin and, with honest indignation, he
cried: "Prove it! Or, by our Lord's blood!--My sword, Biberli!--Spite of
the peace proclaimed throughout the land, you shall learn, ere you open
your slandering lips again----"

Here he paused suddenly, for while Biberli withdrew to obey the command
which, though it probably suited his wishes, he was slow in executing,
doubtless that he might save his master from a reckless act, Siebenburg,
frantic with fury, rushed to the curtain. Ere Heinz could interfere,
he jerked it back so violently that he tore it from the fastenings and
forced the terrified maid, whose arm he grasped, to approach the knight
with him.

Heinz had seen Katterle only by moonlight and in the twilight, so
her unexpected appearance gave him no information. He gazed at her
enquiringly, with as much amazement as though she had risen from the
earth. Siebenburg gave him no time to collect his thoughts, but dragged
the girl before the monk and, raising his voice in menace, commanded:
"Tell the holy Brother who you are, woman!"

"Katterle of Sarnen," she answered, weeping. "And whom do you serve?"
the knight demande