you, ere we part."

This assurance also seemed to Wolff an enigma. Who in the wide world
would come from under the respectable Ortlieb roof, at this hour, to tell
a stranger anything whatsoever concerning one of its daughters? Neither
could have given him the right to regard her as his lady, and steal at
night, like a marten, around the house which contained his dearest
treasure. This obscurity was an offence to Wolff Eysvogel, and he was
not the man to submit to it. Yonder insolent fellow should learn, to his
hurt, that he had made a blunder.

But scarcely had he begun to explain to Heinz that he claimed the right
to protect both the daughters of this house, the younger as well as the
older, since they had no brother, when the knight interrupted:

"Oho! There are two of them, and she, too, spoke of a sister. So, if it
comes to sharing, sir, we need not emulate the judgment of Solomon. Let
us see! The colour is uncertain, but to every Christian mortal a name
clings as closely as a shadow and, if I mention the initial letter of the
one which adorns my lady, I believe I shall commit no offence that a
court of love could condemn. The initial, which I like because it is
daintily rounded and not too difficult to write-mark it well--is 'E.'"

Wolff Eysvogel started slightly and gripped the dagger in his belt, but
instantly withdrew his hand and answered with mingled amusement and
indignation: "Thanks for your good will, Sir Knight, but this, too,
brings us no nearer our goal; the E is the initial of both the Ortlieb
sisters. The elder who, as you may know, is my betrothed bride, bears
the name of Elizabeth, or Els, as we say in Nuremberg."