Hildegardis turned to Edwald with eyes sparkling through tears, and said, “Were it not for you, young knight, they might have sought long and vainly before they found the lost maiden or the noble Froda, who would now be lying in that dark cavern a bleeding and lifeless corpse.” Edwald bowed lowly in reply, but persevered in his wonted silence. It even seemed as though an unusual grief restrained the smile which erewhile answered so readily, in childlike sweetness, to every friendly word.
The noble guardian of Hildegardis had, in the overflowing joy of his heart, prepared a sumptuous banquet, and invited all the knights and ladies present to attend it. Whilst Froda and Edwald, in all the brightness of their glory, were ascending the steps in the train of their rescued lady, Edwald said to his friend, “Noble, steadfast knight, you can never love me more!” And as Froda looked in astonishment, he continued—“Thus it is when children presume to counsel heroes, however well they may mean it. Now have I offended grievously against you, and yet more against the noble Lady Aslauga.” “Because you would have plucked every flower of your own garden to gladden me with them?” said Froda. “No; you are my gentle brother-in-arms now, as heretofore, dear Edchen, and are perhaps become yet dearer to me.”
Then Edwald smiled again in silent contentment, like a flower after the morning showers of May.
The eyes of Hildegardis glanced mildly and kindly on him, and she often conversed graciously with him, while, on the other hand, since yesterday, a reverential awe seemed to separate her from Froda. But Edwald also was much altered. However he welcomed with modest joy the favour of his lady, it yet seemed as if some barrier were between them which forbade him to entertain the most distant hope of successful love.
It chanced that a noble count, from the court of the Emperor, was announced, who being bound on an important embassy, had wished to pay his respects to the Lady Hildegardis by the way. She received him gladly, and as soon as the first salutations were over, he said, looking at her and at Edwald, “I know not if my good fortune may not have brought me hither to a very joyful festivity. That would be right welcome news to the Emperor my master.” Hildegardis and Edwald were lovely to look upon in their blushes and confusion, but the count, perceiving at once that he had been too hasty, inclined himself respectfully towards the young knight, and said, “Pardon me, noble Duke Edwald, my too great forwardness, but I know the wish of my sovereign, and the hope to find it already fulfilled prompted my tongue to speak.” All eyes were fixed inquiringly on the young hero, who answered, in graceful confusion, “It is true; the Emperor, when I was last in his camp, through his undeserved favour, raised me to the rank of a duke. It was my good fortune, that in an encounter, some of the enemy’s horse, who had dared to assault the sacred person of the Emperor, dispersed and fled on my approach.” The count then, at the request of Hildegardis, related every circumstance of the heroic deed; and it appeared that Edwald had not only rescued the Emperor from the most imminent peril, but also, with the cool and daring skill of a general, had gained the victory which decided the event of the war.
Surprise at first sealed the lips of all; and even before their congratulations could begin, Hildegardis had turned towards Edwald, and said in a low voice, which yet, in that silence, was clearly heard by all, “The noble count has made known the wish of my imperial uncle, and I conceal it no longer, my own heart’s wish is the same—I am Duke Edwald’s bride.” And with that she extended to him her fair right hand, and all present waited only till he should take it, before they burst into a shout of congratulation. But Edwald forbore to do so; he only sunk on one knee before his lady, saying, “God forbid that the lofty Hildegardis should ever recall a word spoken solemnly to noble knights and dames. ‘To no vanquished knight,’ you said, ‘might the hand of the Emperor’s niece belong’—and behold there Froda, the noble Danish knight, my conqueror.” Hildegardis, with a slight blush, turned hastily away, hiding her eyes, and as Edwald arose, it seemed as though there were a tear upon his cheek.
In his clanging armour Froda advanced to the middle of the hall, exclaiming, “I declare my late victory over Duke Edwald to have been the chance of fortune, and I challenge the noble knight to meet me again to-morrow in the lists.”
At the same time he threw his iron gauntlet ringing on the pavement.
But Edwald moved not to take it up. On the contrary, a glow of lofty anger was on his cheeks, and his eyes sparkled with indignation, so that his friend would hardly have recognised him; and after a silence he spoke—
“Noble Sir Froda, if I have ever offended you, we are now even. How durst you, a warrior gloriously wounded by two sword-strokes, challenge a man unhurt into the lists to-morrow, if you did not despise him?”