“Restore—restore—restore,” said the mysterious voice.
“What means all this mystery?” exclaimed the emperor. “First I was to take, take, take, and there is nothing for me to take; and now I am to restore. What can I restore, when I have taken nothing?”
Again the emperor slept, and again the voice seemed to speak to him.
“Fly—fly—fly,” said the voice this time, “for a child is now born, who shall become thy son-in-law.”
It was early dawn when Conrad heard the voice the third time. He immediately arose, and inquired of his squires if they had heard a noise, and what had happened in the night.
“Naught,” replied they, “my lord, but that a son was born to the poor woodman whilst you slept.”
“Hah!” exclaimed Conrad, “a son—to mount—to horse—we will away.”
The emperor and his train had hardly found their way out of the wood, when Conrad called two of his knights to him.
“Go,” said he, “to the woodman’s hut, take away the new-born child, kill it; and bring its heart to me, that I may know that you have performed my commands.”
With sorrowful hearts the two knights returned towards the woodman’s cottage. The babe was nestled in its mother’s breast, and smiled on them as they seized it. Vain was the resistance of its mother, for she was alone; Leopold had gone into the wood, to his daily labor.