"I did not know," said the one-eyed Hans, stupidly.


III.

How the Baron came Home Shorn.

But Baron Conrad was not dead. For days he lay upon his hard
bed, now muttering incoherent words beneath his red beard, now
raving fiercely with the fever of his wound. But one day he woke
again to the things about him.

He turned his head first to the one side and then to the other;
there sat Schwartz Carl and the one-eyed Hans. Two or three
other retainers stood by a great window that looked out into the
courtyard beneath, jesting and laughing together in low tones,
and one lay upon the heavy oaken bench that stood along by the
wall snoring in his sleep.

"Where is your lady?" said the Baron, presently; "and why is she
not with me at this time?"

The man that lay upon the bench started up at the sound of his
voice, and those at the window came hurrying to his bedside. But
Schwartz Carl and the one-eyed Hans looked at one another, and
neither of them spoke. The Baron saw the look and in it read a
certain meaning that brought him to his elbow, though only to
sink back upon his pillow again with a groan.

"Why do you not answer me?" said he at last, in a hollow voice;