"An astounding story indeed!" The free-men muttered to each other. The nobles looked at Frederick and shook their heads. "The man must be sure of his proof to make such an accusation," said they, as they turned toward the King.
King Henry sat with bowed head, in deep thought. He ran his hand over his forehead, pondered a moment, and then murmured:
"So foul a deed!"
Aloud he said:
"I would see this maid. I would look upon her face. I would hear her tale. And may God guide my judgment aright."
Hanging his shield on the giant oak behind him, King Henry swore never to wear it again until justice had been done. And all the German nobles drew their swords and thrust them, points down, into the ground, swearing never to wear them again until justice had been done. And the men of Brabant laid their swords at their feet, swearing the same. Then the herald summoned Elsa.
She came, the fair-haired Elsa, clad all in white, with her train of ladies, all in white, behind her. They paused, and she, with hands clasped and eyes cast down, advanced timidly, slowly, alone, until she stood before the King. Her golden hair, unbound, hung a cloud of glory about her. How young she was! How lovely! The rough knights gazed upon her, and their eyes filled with tears. Surely no maiden with such a face could be guilty of such a crime.
The King spoke very gently. Was she Elsa of Brabant? She bowed her head. Did she know the heavy charge that had been brought against her? She bowed again. Was she willing that he, King Henry, should judge her? Once more her head was bowed in assent. And it was only when the King asked whether she was guilty of this murder that Elsa found voice. She wrung her hands piteously, and exclaimed, "Oh, my poor, poor brother!"
A dreamy look was upon Elsa's face as she told her story. Her voice trembled, and her eyes strayed over the distant hills. It was as though she saw it all again.
She told of that day in the woods, her sad walk alone, her deep grief, her utter weariness. She told of her rest beneath the friendly tree and of the blue heaven overhead. But when she told of her prayer to God for guidance in her distress, her faltering voice grew stronger, braver. Rapturously, she told of her dream, and of the noble knight whose white armor had glittered in the sunlight, of his sword, his horn, and, last, of his promise.