“I cannot strike the poor babe,” said one knight to the other, as they left the hut in the forest, “do you play the butcher.”
“Not I,” replied the other; “I can strike down my adversary in fair fight, but not this poor babe.”
At this moment a hare sprang across the path so close to the foremost of the knights, that he raised his hunting pole and struck it down.
“Comrade,” said the other knight, “I perceive how we may make the emperor believe that we have obeyed his commands, and yet not take this poor babe’s life—open the hare, take out its heart. As for the babe, we will place it on yonder high branch, where the wild beasts cannot get at it, until we have done our message to the emperor, then will I return and take this poor babe to my home, for I am childless.”
Leaving the babe, the two knights went on their message to the emperor; but before they could return, a good duke rode by the tree where the babe was, and took compassion on it, and carried the child to his own house, where it was nurtured as his own son. As for the child, he grew up a man of fine form, the joy of his adopted parents, eloquent in speech, and a general favorite at the emperor’s court. For a time, Conrad was as pleased with the attainments of the young Henry, as he had been with those of his poor father; but time brought with it envy, and he soon hated the youth, as he had before the unfortunate count. A dreadful suspicion haunted Conrad’s mind that he had been deceived by his knights, and that the youthful favorite of the people was the woodman’s child, against whom he had been warned by the secret voice. The most cruel thoughts entered his mind, and he determined, this time, not to be deceived by his agents.
“Henry,” said he to the young count, “I have a letter of the utmost importance that I wish to be delivered to my wife; to you I commit it, for you I can trust; haste, then, prepare for your journey, whilst I write the letter.”
Henry retired to his apartments to prepare for his ride he chose his best riding suit, and his strongest horse, desirous in every way to do honor to the emperor’s mission. Conrad went to his private room to prepare the letter.
“As soon as this letter reaches you,” he wrote, “I command you to cause the bearer thereof to be put to death. See that this be done, as you value my love.”
Henry received the letter, and prepared to commence his journey. As it happened, his horse cast one of its shoes, and he was compelled to wait until another could be forged. Unwilling that the emperor should know of the delay, the young man wandered into the royal chapel, and seating himself in one of the royal stalls, fell asleep.
There was a prying, crafty priest in the chapel, who had heard the message given to the young count, and wished very much to discover the secret of the message. Seeing the young man asleep, he silently approached the youth, and extracting the letter from the little silken bag in which it was enclosed, opened its folds, and read, with astonishment, the proposed wickedness.