“No!” interrupted Ebbo, lashed up to hot indignation. “No, sir! Rather will my mother, brother, and I ride back this very night to unfettered liberty on our mountain, without obligation to any living man.”
“Less hotly, Sir Baron,” said Master Gottfried, gravely. “You broke in on your noble godfather, and you had not heard me speak. You and your brother are the old man’s only heirs, nor do ye incur any obligation that need fret you by forestalling what would be your just right. I will see my nephews as well equipped as any young baron of them.”
The mother looked anxiously at Ebbo. He bent his head with rising colour, and said, “Thanks, kind uncle. From you I have learnt to look on goodness as fatherly.”
“Only,” added Friedel, “if the Baron’s station renders knighthood fitting for him, surely I might remain his esquire.”
“Never, Friedel!” cried his brother. “Without thee, nothing.”
“Well said, Freiherr,” said Master Sorel; “what becomes the one becomes the other. I would not have thee left out, my Friedel, since I cannot leave thee the mysteries of my craft.”
“To-morrow!” said Friedel, gravely. “Then must the vigil be kept to-night.”
“The boy thinks these are the days of Roland and Karl the Great,” said Wildschloss. “He would fain watch his arms in the moonlight in the Dome Kirk! Alas! no, my Friedel! Knighthood in these days smacks more of bezants than of deeds of prowess.”
“Unbearable fellow!” cried Ebbo, when he had latched the door of the room he shared with his brother. “First, holding up my inexperience to scorn! As though the Kaisar knew not better than he what befits me! Then trying to buy my silence and my mother’s gratitude with his hateful advance of gold. As if I did not loathe him enough without! If I pay my homage, and sign the League to-morrow, it will be purely that he may not plume himself on our holding our own by sufferance, in deference to him.”
“You will sign it—you will do homage!” exclaimed Friedel. “How rejoiced the mother will be.”