“Everywhere with such a leader!” enthusiastically exclaimed Ebbo.
“What? up there?” said Maximilian, smiling. “Thou hast the tread of a chamois-hunter.”
“Friedel has been on the Red Eyrie,” exclaimed Ebbo; then, thinking he had spoken foolishly, he coloured.
“Which is the Red Eyrie?” good-humouredly asked the king.
“It is the crag above our castle,” said Friedel, modestly.
“None other has been there,” added Ebbo, perceiving his auditor’s interest; “but he saw the eagle flying away with a poor widow’s kid, and the sight must have given him wings, for we never could find the same path; but here is one of the feathers he brought down”—taking off his cap so as to show a feather rather the worse for wear, and sheltered behind a fresher one.
“Nay,” said Friedel, “thou shouldst say that I came to a ledge where I had like to have stayed all night, but that ye all came out with men and ropes.”
“We know what such a case is!” said the king. “It has chanced to us to hang between heaven and earth; I’ve even had the Holy Sacrament held up for my last pious gaze by those who gave me up for lost on the mountain-side. Adlerstein? The peak above the Braunwasser? Some day shall ye show me this eyrie of yours, and we will see whether we can amaze our cousins the eagles. We see you at our father’s court to-morrow?” he graciously added, and Ebbo gave a ready bow of acquiescence.
“There,” said the king, as after their dismissal he walked on with Sir Kasimir, “never blame me for rashness and imprudence. Here has this height of the steeple proved the height of policy. It has made a loyal subject of a Mouser on the spot.”
“Pray Heaven it may have won a heart, true though proud!” said Wildschloss; “but mousing was cured before by the wise training of the mother. Your highness will have taken out the sting of submission, and you will scarce find more faithful subjects.”