"And what do people say?" she asked carelessly.
"Master Spazzo has lately encountered the Abbot from the Reichenau," said Praxedis, "who accosted him thus: 'The Alps have been highly favoured, for the walls of the Säntis reverberate with the sound of the lyre and poetical twitterings; for a new Homer has built his nest up there, and if he only knew in which cave the muses are living, he might lead their dance like the Cynthian Apollo.' And when Master Spazzo, shaking his head, replied, 'how does that regard me?' then the Abbot said: 'The poet's no other than your Ekkehard. This news has reached us from the cloister-school at St. Gall.' Master Spazzo then rejoined laughingly: 'How can a man sing, who is not able to tell a story even?'"
The Duchess had risen. "Be silent," said she, "I won't hear anything more about it." Praxedis understood the wave of her hand, and sorrowfully went away.
Dame Hadwig's heart, however, felt differently from what her tongue uttered. She stepped up to the garden-wall, and looked over towards the Helvetian mountains. Dusk had set in, and long, heavy steel-gray clouds stood immovably over the evening-red that glowed and trembled beneath them.
In looking at the beauty and softness of the waning day, her heart was softened also. Her eyes were riveted on the Säntis, and it was as if she saw a vision, in which the Heavens opened and sent down two angels, who, descending to those heights, lifted up a man in a well-known monk's habit, and the man was pale and dead, and an aureole of light, clear and beautiful surrounded the airy procession ...
But Ekkehard was not dead.
A low hissing sound, made the Duchess start up from her reverie. Her eyes glided over the dark rocky wall, down which the prisoner had once made his escape, and beheld a dark figure disappearing in the shade, whilst an arrow sped towards her, and dropped heavily at her feet.
She bent down to take up the curious missile. No hostile hand had sent it from the bow. Thin parchment-leaves were rolled round the shaft, whilst the point was covered with some wild flowers. She untied the leaves, and did not fail to recognize the handwriting. It was "Waltari's song." On the first page was written in pale red ink: "A parting salutation for the Duchess of Suabia!" and beside it the words of the apostle James: "Blessed is the man, who has conquered temptation."
Then the proud woman inclined her head, and wept bitterly.--