“I would to the village, so please you—to the shrine of the Blessed Friedmund.”
“Nay, at this rate thou wilt not be there till midnight,” said the young knight, springing off his horse; “thou canst never brook our sharp stones! See, Thekla, do thou ride on with Heinz to tell the mother I am bringing her a holy pilgrim to tend. And thou, good man, mount my old gray. Fear not; she is steady and sure-footed, and hath of late been used to a lame rider. Ah! that is well. Thou hast been in the saddle before.”
To go afoot for the sake of giving a lift to a holy wayfarer was one of the most esteemed acts of piety of the Middle Age, so that no one durst object to it, and the palmer did no more than utter a suppressed murmur of acknowledgment as he seated himself on horseback, the young knight walking by his rein. “But what is this?” he exclaimed, almost with dismay. “A road to the castle up here!”
“Yes, we find it a great convenience. Thou art surely from these parts?” added the knight.
“I was a man-at-arms in the service of the Baron,” was the answer, in an odd, muffled tone.
“What!—of my grandfather!” was the exclamation.
“No!” gruffly. “Of old Freiherr Eberhard. Not of any of the Wildschloss crew.”
“But I am not a Wildschloss! I am grandson to Freiherr Eberhard! Oh, wast thou with him and my father when they were set upon in the hostel?” he cried, looking eagerly up to the pilgrim; but the man kept his broad-leaved hat slouched over his face, and only muttered, “The son of Christina!” the last word so low that Ebbo was not sure that he caught it, and the next moment the old warrior exclaimed exultingly, “And you have had vengeance on them! When—how—where?”
“Last harvest-tide—at the Debateable Strand,” said Ebbo, never able to speak of the encounter without a weight at his heart, but drawn on by the earnestness of the old foe of Schlangenwald. “It was a meeting in full career—lances broken, sword-stroke on either hand. I was sore wounded, but my sword went through his collar-bone.”
“Well struck! good stroke!” cried the pilgrim, in rapture. “And with that sword?”