"A cheerful kind of an ancestor, that one of yours," remarked Le Glorieux to the count.
"But he lived a hundred years ago; his blood has been filtered away by this time, at least all that was bad in it," said the countess. "The Count Wolfgang knew that his cousin cared nothing for him, still he was determined to hold her to her promise, and he was resolved, by fair means or foul, to get the young minstrel out of the way." The countess now unclasped a girdle that hung loosely about her waist, with long ends coming almost to the floor, and held it up that all might see it. It was made of flexible silver fretwork, and was set with emeralds. "There is a tradition that when this girdle is lost by the Von Hohenbergs their luck will go with it," went on the countess, "so Iolantha cherished it very highly. One night after dancing in the great hall, a dance in which Rudolph was her partner, the girdle suddenly disappeared in a manner that was most unaccountable. They searched everywhere, but it could not be found, and one by one the servants were accused, but all to no avail. Then tauntingly Wolfgang demanded that Rudolph be searched. Iolantha indignantly refused to have this done, deeming the very suggestion an insult to the man she loved and respected. But without more ado Wolfgang walked up to the young minstrel, and tearing open his doublet, found the girdle concealed on the inside of it."
"I suspected as much," remarked Le Glorieux, who, like every one else, had been very much interested in the story. "You see," he went on, "the minstrel was dancing with the lady, and it would be easy enough for him to unclasp the girdle and hide it in the folds of his mantle until he had a chance to tuck it away in his doublet."
"But wait," said the countess. "Rudolph was as much surprised as any one else and declared that he did not know how it came there."
"He, would naturally make that very remark," observed the fool.
"But Rudolph had not taken the girdle," said the countess triumphantly. "The Count Wolfgang was in league with witches, and it was by their spells that the girdle had come into the minstrel's possession. Servants told the story to their children, and so on down, of how that very night they had heard the witches singing their wild songs, and the old housekeeper saw them dancing in the moonlight. She said they were dressed in a gray, misty material like cobwebs."
"Did Iolantha marry the minstrel?" asked the princess.
"No, your Highness. There was nothing to prove that the witches did the trick, and she could not marry a man with so deep a stain upon his good name. So Rudolph marched away to the crusades, and Iolantha married Count Wolfgang."
"And she did a sensible thing," said Le Glorieux decisively. "I have distrusted that minstrel ever since you brought him into the story, which teaches that the man who does a wicked thing is bound to come out at the small end of the horn."
"Thank you, Fool," said the count, laughing. "You have cleared the good name of my ancestor and you are the first one in all these years to say a word in his favor, all preferring to take sides with the handsome minstrel."