Toward sunset they descended the hill and walked along the picturesque banks of the lake. The noble sheet of water stretched away to the south far as the eye could reach, burnished by the sun, and forming part of the horizon.
"This lake of ours," said the baron, "has obtained a reputation which the best man cannot expect—and, indeed, would not desire: no one has ever breathed a word against it."
"There is a boat!" interposed Gilbert, pointing to a speck in the distance, which his father discovered after a long search, and was invisible to their two older companions. They stood in the shadow of some trees, and watched the object as it increased in size and gradually assumed the undeniable outline of a boat. It came from the direction of Zurich, and pointed directly to the castle. As it neared, they could distinguish four stout rowers and a person seated in the stern. With increased speed it seemed—for it was now within hailing distance—the boat darted straight to where they were standing; and, before it was made fast, the gentleman in the stern sprang ashore, and, removing the cloak in which he had been enveloped, discovered the princely features of Rodolph, Duke of Suabia. Rodolph was descended from the counts of Hapsburg, on the father's side—and, on the mother's, from the illustrious family of Otto the Great. He was styled King of Arles, and resided for the most part at Zurich. He was connected with Henry of Austria by a double tie, Matilda, his first wife, having been the sister of the king, and Adelaide, to whom he was then married, being the sister of the queen. But, though thus allied to Henry, he neither loved nor respected him. Once, indeed, the emperor had summoned him to court, on the charge of entertaining projects hostile to the house of Franconia, but Rodolph, well knowing the treacherous character of the monarch, and always a hero, boldly refused, preferring the fortune of arms to the fate of an investigation. Subsequently, filled with horror at the impiety of the Saxons in burning the Cathedral at Hartzburg, hallowed by numerous relics, and filled with the rich offerings of the faithful, he had united with Henry to chastise their sacrilege. At the battle of Hohenburg, in the van—the privilege of Suabia—he distinguished himself above all others by his impetuous valor, and only left the field when covered with wounds. Rodolph was equally remarkable for the size and beauty of his person, and the elevation of his soul. The Teutonic antiquities contain many songs of the Minnesingers, in which he is invested with all the qualities of mind and heart and body that can adorn the knight; but one fault is imputed to him—ambition. His subjects almost worshipped him, and his power is said to have been built upon their hearts. So conspicuous was he among his brother dukes, that, at the Diet of Gerstungen, in 1073, he had been offered the imperial crown, but he declined it unless awarded by the unanimous suffrages of the confederation.
Between him and the Baron of Hers a close friendship of long standing had existed, which had been interrupted by the baron's refusal to accompany him the preceding year in the expedition against Saxony. This refusal had been dictated by the knight's invincible repugnance to Henry, and by the politic move of conciliating all who opposed the emperor. Since the battle of Hohenburg they had not met.
After receiving the formal salutation due to his rank, Rodolph cordially embraced the Lord of Hers, and extended his regards to Gilbert, who could not sufficiently admire the hero of Hohenburg.
"But for your father's obstinacy," he said to the youth, "you would now be a knight. But I will see you win your spurs yet."
The greetings over, they all began to ascend the hill. The duke would not pass the chapel without entering. The pavement upon which they knelt had been worked with many a rich and curious device; but time and the knees of the faithful had worn away most of the finest tracery. At the foot of one of the columns still remained this fragment of an inscription:
Hoc pavimentum … feci … ductus amore Dei.
This was the spot upon which the duke loved to kneel. Before rising, he drew from under his robe a golden chalice, and gave it to Herman, who was beside him. The priest took it and carried it to the sanctuary.
"I would almost give the decade of Jura," exclaimed Rodolph, as he approached the castle gate, "to know who made that superb pavement."