Rodolph, bending over and caressing her, undid a knot of ribbon at her throat, kissing the white neck thus laid bare.
"I shall wear your colours on my arm, Tekla, till I return, if you will but tie them there and entangle your good wishes with the knot."
The girl tied the shred of ribbon on his arm, daintily pressing her lips to the knot when it was in place.
"There," she cried, looking up at him with moist and glistening eyes, "that will bring you safely to me; but, Rodolph, you will be careful and not rash. Do not jeopardise your own safety for—for us. I fear your men are but few, and if that is the case, do not, I beg of you, adventure life in a hopeless enterprise. Let us rather surrender and throw ourselves on the mercy of the Archbishop."
"I should scarcely care to trust to his tender heart, but you may be sure I shall use all caution. I think my men will be ample in number for the task I shall set to them, and in any case we will be strong in the justice of our cause and the prayers of our Lady. And now Tekla, I must be gone and trust myself to the outcome of the night. I hear Conrad approaching with a clumsy noisiness that betokens a desire to deal with others as he would be dealt with himself. His coming shows that the moment of parting is at hand, for another awaits us, and our success depends on our being at our post in the valley at the exact time, so kiss me, my Tekla, before the faithful head of Conrad appears above the battlements."
The kiss and others to supplement it were given and taken.
"We shall always remember these battlements, Rodolph," she whispered to him.
When Conrad at last came, Rodolph and he disappeared over the wall together: Tekla, leaning against the parapet, little as she imagined it, bade farewell for ever to her Knight of the Moselle. It was destined that the next lover she was to meet would be no unknown Lord, but the Emperor of Germany himself.