If he were required to woo her in the usual form, he would do so. And
what a charming yet resolute creature was the other E, who, in her
anxiety about her sister, had crossed his path with such grave, firm
dignity! She was Wolff Eysvogel's betrothed bride, and it seemed to him
a very pleasant thing to call the young man, whom he had so quickly
learned to esteem, his brother-in-law.

If the father refused his daughter to him, he would leave Nuremberg and
ride to the Rhine, where Hartmann, the Emperor Rudolph's son, whom he
loved like a younger brother, was now living. Heinz had instructed the
lad of eighteen in the use of the lance and the sword, and Hartmann had
sent him word the day before that the Rhine was beautiful, but without
him he but half enjoyed even the pleasantest things. He needed him.
Hundreds of other knights and squires could break in the new horses for
the Emperor and the young Bohemian princess, though perhaps not quite so
skilfully. Hartmann would understand him and persuade his imperial
father to aid him in his suit. The warmhearted youth could not bear to
see him sorrowful, and without Eva there was no longer joy or happiness.

He was roused from these thoughts and dreams by his own name called in a
low tone.

Katterle had gone with Eva to the chamber, whither the older sister
followed them. Tenderly embracing the weeping girl, she had kissed her
wet eyes and whispered in an agitated voice, with which, however, blended
a great deal of affectionate mischief: "The wolf who forced his way into
the house does not seem quite so harmless as mine, whom I have succeeded
in taming very tolerably. Go to mother now, darling. I'll be back
directly."