"Dead!" cried Lichtenstein, and his voice trembled. "His was indeed a faithful soul,--may it rest in peace! His actions were noble, and he died true to his master, as all should do."
Fronsberg now approached them, and interrupted their conversation. "You appear much cast down," said he; "but be of good cheer and consolation, noble sir! the fortune of war is changeable, and your Duke will, in all probability, once more return to his native country. Who knows if it is not better that we should send him to foreign parts again for a short time? Put by your helmet and armour; your fight at breakfast time will not have spoiled your appetite for mid-day's meal. Seat yourself beside us. About noon I expect the guardian, who is to have charge of you in your confinement; until then, let's be cheerful."
"That's a proposition we can readily satisfy," cried Breitenstein. "Dinner is ready, gentlemen: you and I have not dined together, Albert, since that day in the townhall of Ulm. Come, and we'll make up for lost time."
Hans von Breitenstein seated himself with Albert next to him; the others followed his example; the servants brought the dinner, and wine made the knight of Lichtenstein and his son forget, for a time, their unfortunate situation of being in the enemy's camp, and the uncertainty of their fate, which, according to Fronsberg's assurance, was to be an imprisonment of long duration. Towards the end of the repast Fronsberg was called away, but he soon returned, and said, with a serious countenance, "Willingly as I would wish to enjoy your society some time longer, my friends, I am sorry to compel you to break up. The guard is without into whose charge I must deliver you, and I would advise you to lose no time, if you would arrive at the fortress of your confinement before dark."
"I trust our guard is one of our own rank,--a knight?" asked Lichtenstein, whilst his face assumed a gloomy, indignant frown. "I hope proper attention will be paid to our rights, and that we shall have an escort fitting our station."
"No knight will accompany you," said Fronsberg, "but a fitting escort, of which you shall convince yourself." With these words he raised the curtain of his tent, discovering to the astonished father and son the lovely features of Bertha. She flew into the arms of her enraptured husband. Her venerable father, speechless from joy and surprise, kissed his child on her forehead, and pressed the hand of the honest Fronsberg in token of heartfelt gratitude.
"That is your guardian," said the latter; "and the castle of Lichtenstein the place of your confinement. I can see already, in your eyes," addressing himself to Bertha, "that you will not be too severe with the young man, and that the old man will not have to complain. But let me advise you, my pretty daughter, to have a watchful eye to your prisoners; don't let them out of the castle, for fear of their rejoining the cause of certain people. Your pretty head will answer for their actions!"
"But, dear sir," replied Bertha, whilst she drew her beloved closer to her, and smiled playfully at the stern commander, "recollect he is my head,--so how can I command him?"
"That is just the reason why you should take care not to lose it again. Bind him fast with the knot of love,--let him not escape, for he easily changes his colours; of which we have had proofs sufficient."
"I only wore one colour, my fatherly friend!" replied the young man, looking at his beautiful wife, and pointing to the scarf which he wore, "only one, and to this I remained faithful."