His Highness consented, and they both ascended in the dark. On entering, Ulrich drew forth a dark lantern from beneath his cloak, and made the light fall upon an old suit of armour. Then turning to the Prince—"Do you know this armour?" he said.
"Ah, yes; it was the armour of his dearly beloved father, Duke
Philip."
Ille.—"Right. Did he then remember the admonitions which the wearer of this armour had uttered, upon his deathbed, to him and his brothers?"
"Oh yes, well he remembered them; but what did this long sermon denote?"
Ille.—"This he would soon know. Had he not given his right hand to the wearer of that armour, and pledged himself ever to set a good example before the people committed to his rule?"
Hic.—"He did not know what all this meant. Had he even set a bad example to his subjects?"
Ille.—"He was on the high-road to do it, when he had resolved to wed himself secretly to a maiden beneath his rank. (Here the young Prince became as pale as a corpse.) Let him deny, if he could, that he had sworn by his father's corpse, with his hand upon the coffin, to abandon Sidonia. He would not upbraid him with his broken promises to him, but would he bring his loving mother to her grave through shame and a broken heart? Would he make himself on a level with the lowest of the people, by wedding Sidonia the next night in the church at Crummyn?"
Hic.—"Had that accursed Catholic nun then betrayed him? Ah, he was surrounded by spies and traitors; but if he could not obtain Sidonia now, he would wed her the moment he was of age and succeeded to the government. If he could in no way have Sidonia, then he would never wed another woman, but remain single and a dead branch for his whole life long. Her blood was as noble as his own, and no devil should dare to part them."
_Ille.—"But if he could prove, this very night, to the young lord, that Sidonia was not an honourable maiden, but a dishonoured creature——" Here the young Prince drew his dagger and rushed upon the old man, with lips foaming with rage; but Ulrich sprang behind the armour of Duke Philip, and said calmly, "Ernest, if thou wouldst murder me who have been so leal and faithful a servant to thee and thine, then strike me dead here through the links of thy father's cuirass."
And as the young man drew back with a deep groan, he continued—"Hear me, before thou dost a deed which eternity will not be long enough to repent. I cannot be angry with thee, for I have been young myself, and would have stricken any one to the earth who had called my own noble bride dishonoured. Listen to me, then, and strike me afterwards, if thou wilt." Hereupon the old knight stepped out from behind the armour, which was fixed upon a wooden frame in the middle of the apartment, with the helmet surmounting it, and leaning against the shoulder-piece, he proceeded to relate all that Clara had seen and heard.