"So?" said the Baron. "Then I will tell thee. Three years ago
the good Baron Frederick, my uncle, kneeled in the dust and
besought mercy at thy father's hands; the mercy he received was
the coward blow that slew him. Thou knowest the story?"

"Aye," said Otto, tremblingly, "I know it."

"Then dost thou not know why I am here?" said the Baron.

"Nay, dear Lord Baron, I know not," said poor little Otto, and
began to weep.

The Baron stood for a moment or two looking gloomily upon him,
as the little boy sat there with the tears running down his
white face.

"I will tell thee," said he, at last; "I swore an oath that the
red cock should crow on Drachenhausen, and I have given it to
the dames. I swore an oath that no Vuelph that ever left my
hands should be able to strike such a blow as thy father gave to
Baron Frederick, and now I will fulfil that too. Catch the boy,
Casper, and hold him."

As the man in the mail shirt stepped toward little Otto, the boy
leaped up from where he sat and caught the Baron about the
knees. "Oh! dear Lord Baron," he cried, "do not harm me; I am
only a little child, I have never done harm to thee; do not harm
me."

"Take him away," said the Baron, harshly.