return from their long and perilous sea-voyages, they hasten to an
hospital which has been founded by them, and where they undertake the
part of overseers, and of careful and patient nurses. Then they
proceed to select the most fitting spots whereon to erect new towers
and fortresses for the defence of their beloved country. Next they
repair to the houses where strangers and travellers receive
hospitality at their cost; and at last they return to their own
abode, to entertain their guests, rich and noble like kings, and
simple and unconstrained like shepherds. Many a tale of their
wondrous adventures serves to enliven these sumptuous feasts.
Amongst others, I remember to have heard my friends relate one at
which my hair stood on end. Possibly I may gain some more complete
information on the subject from you. It appears that several years
ago, just about the time of the Christmas festival, Gotthard and
Rudlieb were shipwrecked on the coast of Norway, during a violent
winter tempest. They could never exactly ascertain the situation of
the rocks on which their vessel stranded; but so much is certain,
that very near the sea-shore stood a huge castle, to which the father
and son betook themselves, seeking for that assistance and shelter
which Christian people are ever willing to afford each other in case
of need. They went alone, leaving their followers to watch the
injured ship. The castle-gates were thrown open, and they thought
all was well. But on a sudden the court-yard was filled with armed
men, who with one accord aimed their sharp iron-pointed spears at the
defenceless strangers, whose dignified remonstrances and mild
entreaties were only heard in sullen silence or with scornful
jeerings. After a while a knight came down the stairs, with fire-
flashing eyes. They hardly knew whether to think they saw a spectre,
or a wild heathen; he gave a signal, and the fatal spears closed
around them. At that instant the soft tones of a woman's voice fell