The story of Dietrich’s wealth and generosity became known in the palace, and Princess Oda was seized with an intense curiosity to see the hero of so many tales. She took counsel with Herlind, her chief lady-in-waiting, as to how she might accomplish her purpose with most propriety. Then, acting on her advice, she begged her father to get up some races, and allow her and her ladies to watch the sport. The emperor consented, and on the appointed day a large assemblage of spectators appeared on the course. The crush of people who collected round Dietrich was so great that none of the ladies of the court were able to get so much as a glimpse of him. The next day Oda called Herlind into her room, and promised her five gold bracelets if she would contrive a secret meeting between her and the stranger. Herlind promised to do her best. She went to Dietrich’s lodging, taking every precaution against being seen, and gave him her mistress’s message. He refused to go and see the princess, lest the news of his having done so should leak out and come to the emperor’s ears. But before dismissing Herlind, he gave her a golden and a silver shoe as a present. She hastened back to her lady and told her all.
“He is a noble man,” said Oda, “and cares more for our honour than for his own safety. I will keep the shoes in remembrance of him, and will give you instead as many gold pieces as they will hold.”
Herlind was satisfied with the proposal and now tried to put the shoes on her lady’s feet, but could not, for they were both made for the same foot.
“Go,” cried the princess, “he is not true. I will have none of his gifts, and will think of him no more. Take back the shoes and throw them at his feet.”
Wise Herlind understood how to interpret her mistress’s command. She hastened to Dietrich, and told him that the princess was angry with him, but that her curiosity to see him was so great that she would no doubt pardon him if he took a proper pair of shoes with his own hand. Dietrich seized the first moment when he could reach the princess’s apartments unobserved, and knocked at the door.
He stopped on the threshold in amazement at the wondrous beauty of the maiden who advanced to meet him. She was also struck by his stately bearing and the resolute expression of his handsome manly face. She had intended to show him her displeasure, but she could not; she could only listen to the grave and sensible explanation he gave of his conduct in not at once obeying her commands. And when he asked permission to put the shoes on her feet, she could not deny him. In course of conversation he mentioned Rother’s offer for her hand, and then, little by little, told her his secret, and the reason that had brought him to Constantinople. He asked her for her love, and she promised to be his wife. He now showed her that her father’s sentiments being what they were, their only chance of happiness was to fly together, and explained that before they could attempt to make their escape his faithful servants, who were still confined in the emperor’s dungeons, must be set at liberty. He begged Oda to try to get them set free. She promised to do her best, and pointed out the gloomy tower in which they were imprisoned.
Next day the princess appeared before her father, dressed in deep mourning, and told him that she had had a dreadful dream that night. Her room had seemed full of flames from the nethermost hell, and she had heard a voice call to her that if King Rother’s twelve messengers were not brought out of their dungeons, and furnished with clothes, food and wine, she would fall under eternal condemnation.
“That was the devil’s voice, not an angel’s,” answered Constantine, “and I will not, on such a command, give up the rights I possess by the grace of God. But if it will make you happier, Oda, I will allow the prisoners to have their liberty for a short time, on condition that some one will offer his life to me as bail for them that they will not try to make their escape.”
Oda left her father’s presence much comforted, for she had made up her mind what to do.