The secretary hastened out of the room with all speed, and was
seen next morning to look unusually pale.


Soon after this Froda recovered from his wounds; the course
was again prepared as before, but crowded by a still greater
number of spectators; and in the freshness of a dewy morning
the two knights advanced solemnly together to the combat.

"Beloved Edwald," said Froda, in a low voice, as they went,
"take good heed to yourself, for neither this time can the
victory be yours--on that rose-coloured cloud appears
Aslauga."

"It may be so," answered Edwald, with a quiet smile; "but
under the arches of that golden bower shines Hildegardis,
and this time she has not been waited for."

The knights took their places--the trumpets sounded, the
course began, and Froda's prophecy seemed to be near its
fulfilment, for Edwald staggered under the stroke of his
lance, so that he let go the bridle, seized the mane with
both hands, and thus hardly recovered his seat, whilst his
high-mettled snow-white steed bore him wildly around the lists
without control. Hildegardis also seemed to shrink at this
sight, but the youth at length reined-in his steed, and the
second course was run.

Froda shot like lightning along the plain, and it seemed as if
the success of the young duke were now hopeless; but in the