On walking along the passage of the upper storey, he passed an open chamber. This was the snuggery of the old men. The blind Thieto who had been Abbot before Cralo, until his waning eyesight had forced him to resign, was sitting there. A window was open, so that the old man could breathe freely and enjoy the warm sunny air. With him, Ekkehard had spent many an hour, in friendly converse. The blind man recognized his step and called him in.
"Where are you going?" asked he.
"Down stairs,--and to-morrow I am going far away. Give me your hand, I am going to the Hohentwiel."
"Bad,--very bad," muttered the old man.
"Why, father Thieto?"
"The service of women is an evil thing for him, who wishes to remain good. Court service is worse still. What then are both together?"
"It is my fate," said Ekkehard.
"St. Gallus keep you and bless you. I will pray for you. Give me my stick."
Ekkehard offered his arm, which was refused however, and seizing his staff, the blind man rose, and went to a niche in the wall, from which he took out a small phial and gave it to Ekkehard.
"It's water from the river Jordan, which I took myself. When the dust of this world has covered your face, and is dimming your eyes, then bathe them with it. It will not help me any more. Farewell."