YOLANDA



CHAPTER I

A CASTLE AMONG THE CRAGS

Like the Israelites of old, mankind is prone to worship false gods, and
persistently sets up the brazen image of a sham hero, as its idol. I
should like to write the history of the world, if for no other reason
than to assist several well-established heroes down from their
pedestals. Great Charlemagne might come to earth's level, his
patriarchal, flowing beard might drop from his face, and we might see
him as he really was--a plucked and toothless old savage, with no more
Christianity than Jacob, and with all of Jacob's greed. Richard of
England, styled by hero-worshippers "The Lion-hearted," might be
re-christened "The Wolf-hearted," and the famous Du Guesclin might seem
to us a half-brutish vagabond. But Charles of Burgundy, dubbed by this
prone world "The Bold" and "The Rash," would take the greatest fall. Of
him and his fair daughter I shall speak in this history.

At the time of which I write Louis XI reigned over France, Edward IV
ruled in England, and his sister, the beautiful Margaret of York, was
the unhappy wife of this Charles the Rash, and stepmother to his gentle
daughter Mary. Charles, though only a duke in name, reigned as a most
potent and despotic king over the fair rich land of Burgundy. Frederick
of Styria was head of the great house of Hapsburg, and Count Maximilian,
my young friend and pupil, was his heir.