"Assuredly, my lord count, it is an honor and happiness to obey you," replied the young knight, taking leave of his protector with a courteous inclination.
The two escorts separated, and Otho, dismissing his, took the direction of the house of the old sculptor.
A few moments after, Mina and Johann saw him enter the atelier.
"Here I am at last, my dear master," said he, pressing the old artist's hands with real affection. "Did you think I had forgotten you in the midst of tiltings and passages-at-arms?"
"There was certainly reason that you might," replied Sebald, smiling. "In the midst of thrusts of lance and crushing of helms, you could scarce think of kneading clay or cutting statues."
"That may be, but a pupil can always find time to give his dearest, his oldest friend and most excellent master pleasure. And what think you, Master Koerner, I bring to-day?"
"Firstly, a crown, if rumor speaks truth," answered the sculptor; "secondly, some broken casques and battered harness. Those, I believe, are the gleanings of the tilt-yard."
"Then, master, you are wrong. I bring something different from all these. Would you know what? An order from the margrave, written with his own hand and sealed with his own seal, for Master Sebald Koerner to begin, with no greater delay than a month at most, the decoration of the chapel and the grand hall of his castle of Eberstein."
"How! The margrave choose me!" cried Sebald, his eyes lighting up with joy.
"And certes, my master, could he have made a better choice? After the tournament we met in his castle, and he there spoke of his castle of Eberstein and the embellishments he proposed, but he had not yet fixed his choice upon a sculptor. In short, I brought forward your name; I praised your St. Christopher; I recalled your Virgin Mary to his mind; some other nobles seconded me, and—here is the order written upon parchment."