His appearance created a joyful stir among the other members of the court—nay, in spite of the sovereign’s presence, cordial expressions of welcome fell from the lips of ladies and nobles. The Bohemian princess alone cast an angry glance at the blue ribbon which adorned the helmet of the returning knight; for “blue” was Countess von Montfort’s colour, and “rose red” her own.
The ecclesiastics whom Heinz passed whispered eagerly together. The Duchess Agnes’s confessor, an elderly Dominican of tall stature, was listening to the provost of St. Sebald’s, a grey-haired man a head shorter than he, of dignified yet kindly aspect, who, looking keenly at Heinz, remarked: “I fear that your prior hopes too confidently to win yonder young knight. No one walks with that bearing who is on the eve of renouncing the world. A splendid fellow!”
“To whom armour is better suited than the cowl,” observed the Bishop of Bamberg, a middleaged prelate of aristocratic appearance, approaching the others. “Your prior, my dear brothers, would have little pleasure, I think, in the fish he is so eagerly trying to drag from the Minorite’s net into his own. He would leap ashore again all too quickly. He is not fit for the monastery. He would do better for a priest, and I would bid him welcome as a military brother in office.”
“Bold enough he certainly is,” added the Dominican. “I would not advise every one to enter the Emperor’s presence and this distinguished gathering in such attire.”
In fact, Heinz showed plainly that he had come directly from the battlefield and the saddle, for a suit of stout chain armour, which covered the greater part of his tolerably long tunic, encased his limbs, and even the helmet which he bore on his arm, spite of the blue ribbon that adorned it, was by no means one of the delicate, costly ones worn in the tournament. Besides, many a bruise showed that hard blows and thrusts had been dealt him.
CHAPTER XVIII.
At Heinz Schorlin’s quarters the day before his young hostess, Frau Barbel, had had the costly armour entrusted to her care, and the trappings belonging to it, cleaned and put in order, but her labour was vain; for Heinz Schorlin had ridden directly to the fortress from Schweinau, without stopping at his lodgings in the city.
Only a short time before he had learned that his two messengers had been captured and failed to reach their destination. He owed this information to Sir Boemund Altrosen—and many another piece of news which Cordula had given him.
The main portion of Heinz Schorlin’s task was completed when the countess’s ambassador reached him, so he set out on his homeward way at once, and this time his silent friend had been eloquent and told him everything which had occurred during his absence.