Here he paused abruptly. A flood of light streamed into the street from
the doorway of the Ortlieb house. It must be a fire, and with the
startled cry, "St. Florian aid us! my entry is burning!" he rushed
forward with his companion to the endangered house so quickly that the
torchbearers, who even in this bright night did good service in the
narrow streets, whose lofty houses barred out the moonlight, could
scarcely follow.

Thus Herr Ernst, far more anxious about his invalid, helpless wife than
his imperilled wares, soon reached his own door. His companion crossed
the threshold close behind him, sullen, deeply incensed, and determined
to order his son to choose between his love and favour and the daughter
of this unfriendly man, whom only a sudden accident had prevented from
breaking the betrothal.

The sight of so many torches blazing here was an exasperating spectacle
to Ernst Ortlieb, who with wise caution and love of order insisted that
nothing but lanterns should be used to light his house, which contained
inflammable wares of great value; but other things disturbed his
composure, already wavering, to an even greater degree.

What was his Els doing at this hour among these gentlemen, all of whom
were strangers?

Without heeding them or the countess, he was hastening towards her to
obtain a solution of this enigma, but the young Burgrave Eitelfritz von
Zollern, the Knight of Altrosen, Cordula von Montfort, and others barred
his way by greeting him and eagerly entreating him to pardon their
intrusion at so late an hour.