"And jesters, I suppose you mean, noble lords; for they are well fitted to take part in solemn business of high import. What is finer food for them than to see grave men doing foolish things?"
"No, my good friend," answered the Count sternly; "your company is very pleasant, but just now your absence will be pleasanter than your presence." The jester laughed, whispered what seemed a jest to Count Frederick, and left the hall with the rest. While they were trooping out, the Count of Ehrenstein spoke something quickly to his friend, who answered immediately, "No, no, the other case first. See upon whose evidence the charge rests before you judge him."
"I need no evidence but what I have," replied the Count; "but be it as you will, Leiningen."
Count Frederick nodded; and looking round the hall, in which six gentlemen, bearing knightly rank, were left, besides Mosbach and Seckendorf, and the two lords, he raised his voice, and addressed one of his followers, saying, "Tell them to bring Martin of Dillberg before us, and gather those men together whose names I gave you."
The knights hastened to obey, the two noblemen seated themselves at the higher end of the hall, the others ranged themselves around, and all waited in gloomy silence for the events that were to follow.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
With a pale countenance and feeble limbs, Martin of Dillberg was brought into the presence of the two lords. Imprisonment, even for the short period which he had endured it, had taken from him all the bold confidence which he usually displayed, and which had served not a little, on many occasions, to deliver him from difficult and dangerous circumstances, into which a perverse heart and a subtle and unscrupulous mind had led him. No sooner did he appear, than a dark and terrible change came over the face of Count Frederick of Leiningen. His frank, open, and cheerful countenance had become grave some minutes before; but now a heavy frown gathered on his brow, and a stern, indignant quivering of the upper lip seemed to show that it was with difficulty he refrained from heaping reproaches on the youth's head, rather than treating him as a prisoner before his judge. The young man's courage, already low, sank still farther when he saw the expression of his lord's face, and he turned an eager and imploring look to the Count of Ehrenstein, but found no comfort there.
"Martin of Dillberg, stand forward," said Count Frederick, in a loud tone, "and answer for yourself before the witnesses against you enter. Did you, or did you not, linger behind at Saarbrück, on the pretence that your horse had fallen with you, and injured you severely?"
"And so he did, my noble lord," said the youth, taking a step forward, with his heart somewhat lightened by the first question. "You yourself saw that he fell, and hurt me."
"That he fell, I saw," answered the Count; "that he hurt you, depended only upon your own testimony. But answer again, Whence went you from Saarbrück?"