Dame Hadwig delighted in all that was extraordinary. "From that child, we might all learn something!" she said, lifting up the shy little Hadumoth to imprint a kiss on her forehead. "God is with thee, without thy knowing it. Therefore, thy thoughts are great and bold. Who amongst you has a gold coin?"
The Knight of Randegg fetched one out of the depth of his pocket. It was a large golden Thaler, on one side of which could be seen the Emperor Charles with a stern face, and wide open eyes, and on the other a crowned female head. "It's my last one," said he laughingly, handing it to Praxedis. The Duchess then gave it to the child. "Go out then, with the Lord; it is a decree of providence."
All were deeply touched, and Ekkehard put his hands on the little maiden's head, as if to bless her. "I thank you!" said she, turning to go; then once more looking round she added: "but if they will not let me have Audifax, for one goldpiece only?"
"Then I will give thee another," said the Duchess.
Upon this, the child confidently walked away.
And Hadumoth really went out into the unknown world. The goldpiece, sewn up in her bodice, her pocket filled with bread, and the staff which Audifax had once cut for her, from the dark green holly-bush, in her hand. That she did not know the way, and that her finding food and a shelter for the night, were doubtful things, she had not time to trouble herself about. The Huns have gone away, towards the setting sun, and have taken him with them, was her sole thought. The flowing Rhine, and the setting sun were her only waymarks, and Audifax her goal.
By and by, the scenery became strange to her; the Bodensee looking smaller and narrower in the distance, and foreign hills rising before her, to hide the proud and familiar shape of the hill, which was her home. More than once, did she look back, until she had caught the last glimpse of the Hohentwiel, with its walls and towers steeped in dark blue shadows. Then she entered an unknown valley, grown with dark pine-woods, under the shade of which, low, straw-thatched cottages lay hidden. Nodding a last Goodbye to her Hegau mountains, Hadumoth walked on undauntedly.
When the sun had gone down to his rest behind the pine-woods, she stopped a while. "Now they are ringing the bell for evening-prayer at home," said she. "I will pray also." So she knelt down in the woody solitude and prayed; first for Audifax, then for the Duchess, and finally for herself. Everything was silent around her. She only heard her own fast-beating heart.
"What will become of my poor geese?" thought she next, rising from her knees, "'tis now the hour to drive them home." Then Audifax with whom she had so often returned home of an evening, rose again before her mind and she hurried on.
In the different farm-yards which she passed in the valley, not a soul was stirring about; only before one little straw-thatched cottage, an old woman was sitting. "Thou must take me in for the night, grandmother," said Hadumoth coaxingly; but except a sign that she could remain, she received no answer whatever, for the old woman was deaf. When the people had fled up into the mountains on account of the Huns, she alone had remained behind.