True, even now grief often rudely assailed Eva's heart. At such times
she paused, sighing silently, or exclaimed to her companion, "Ah, if she
could be with us!" or else asked thoughtfully if she remembered how her
mother had rejoiced over the fragrant orchid or the white water-lily
which she had just found.

Sister Perpetua had taken part of the blossoms which she had gathered;
but Ortel already stood waiting with the basket, and the house-dog,
Wasser, which had followed the young servant, ran barking joyously to
meet the ladies. Eva already had flowers enough to adorn the coffin as
she desired, and the sun showed that it was time to return.

Hitherto they had met no one. The blossoms could be arranged here in the
forest meadow under the shade of the thick hazel-bushes which bordered
the pine wood.

After Eva had thrown hers on the grass, she asked the nun to do the same
with her own motley bundle.

Between the thicket and the road stood a little chapel which had been
erected by the Mendel family on the spot where a son of old Herr Nikolaus
had been murdered. Four Frank robber knights had attacked him and the
train of waggons he had ridden out to meet, and killed the spirited young
man, who fought bravely in their defence.

Such an event would no longer have been possible so near the city. But
Eva knew what had befallen the Eysvogel wares and, although she did not
lack courage, she started in terror as she heard the tramp of horses'
hoofs and the clank of weapons, not from the city, but within the forest.