Here our story is ended.
Ekkehard went out into the wide world, and never set eyes again on the Hohentwiel. Neither did he ever return to the monastery of St. Gall. It is true that when he descended from the Alps and approached the well-known walls, he reflected whether he should not enter it again as a penitent; but at the right moment an adage of the old Master of the Alps occurred to him: "when a man has once been master, he does not like to become a servant again,"--and so he passed by.
Later, a good deal was talked about a certain Ekkehard at the court of the Saxon Emperor, who was said to be a proud, strong-willed and reserved man; who to great piety united great contempt for the world,--but contented, active and well-versed in all the arts. He became the Emperor's chancellor, and tutor of his young son; and his counsel was of great influence in all the affairs of the realm. One historian reports of him, that by degrees he had risen to so much honour, that there was a rumour that the highest dignity of the Church was awaiting him.
The Empress Adelheid, also held him in great esteem; and his influence was one of the chief causes that an army was sent out against the overbearing King of Denmark.
It has not been ascertained whether this was the same Ekkehard of our story.
Others have pretended that there had been several monks of the name of Ekkehard in the monastery of St. Gall; and that he, who had instructed the Duchess in Latin, was not the same who had composed Waltari's song.
Those, however, who have attentively read the story which we have now happily brought to a conclusion, know better.
About the fate of the others whom our tale, in many-coloured forms, has brought before the reader's eye, there is not much left to be told.
The Duchess Hadwig never married again; and in her pious widowhood reached a considerable age. Later, she founded a humble little convent on the Hohentwiel, to which she bequeathed her territories in the Allemannian lands.
Ekkehard's name was no more allowed to be mentioned before her; but Waltari's song was read very often, and she evidently derived much pleasure and comfort from it. According to an,--however unwarranted assertion of the monks from the Reichenau,--she is said to have known it almost by heart.