"He does not like to be called by that name," said the girl; "he is certainly a musician, but he prefers being known by the name of Hans."
"But how did I come here?" inquired Albert.
"Don't you recollect anything about it?" smiled the young girl, and played with her hair again. She then related, in Swabian dialect, that after her father had been absent many weeks, he suddenly arrived nine days ago, in the night, and knocked at the door some time before it awoke her. Having recognised his voice, she hurried down to let him in. He was accompanied by four men, carrying a wounded man, covered with his cloak, whom they brought into the house. When her father withdrew the cloak from the sick man, and desired her to bring a light, she was terribly frightened at seeing a person bleeding, and apparently half dead. He then ordered her to heat the stove immediately, and they brought the wounded man into the room, and laid him on the bed. His dress was that of a person of distinction. "My father," added she, "applied some herbs to his wounds, he also prepared a cordial for him, for he understands the art of medicine both for man and beast. The young man was for two days very restless and violent, which caused us all great anxiety. But after my father had given him a third dose of medicine he became easy and quiet, and then he said that, on the eighth morning, the invalid would be himself again, and his prediction has actually come to pass."
Albert listened to the story of the young girl with much interest; he was obliged occasionally to interrupt her in her narration, when he did not exactly understand the expressions she made use of in her Swabian dialect, or when she described more minutely the herbs with which the fifer of Hardt had prepared his medicines.
"And where is your father?" he asked.
"How can we know where he is?" she answered, as if she wished to avoid the question; but, recollecting herself, she added, "I think I may tell you, because you must be a good friend of his; he is gone to Lichtenstein."
"To Lichtenstein?" cried Albert, and blushed deeply; "and when will he come back again?"
"He ought to have been here two days ago, as he told us, if nothing happened to detain him. Folks say the cavalry of the League are on the look-out for him."
The mere mention of Lichtenstein seemed to invigorate his weak frame with renewed strength. He fancied himself strong enough to mount his horse immediately, and, by the rapidity of his movements, make up for the time he had lost on the bed of sickness.
His next and most important question, therefore, was to inquire after his horse; and when he heard it was quite well in the cow-house, he thought he would be able to set out without further loss of time. He thanked his kind little nurse for the care she had taken of him, and asked for his jacket and cloak. She had long since cleaned his clothes, and carefully washed out all spots of blood; and taking them out of the carved painted chest, where they had been placed among her Sunday's attire, spread them out one by one before him, and appeared pleased with the grateful acknowledgements which he expressed for her attention. She then hurried out of the room to acquaint her mother with the joyful news of the young knight's restoration to health and vigour.