The Emperor had been informed of the great shock experienced by the young
knight, but it was unnecessary; an eye far less keen would not have
failed to note the change in Heinz Schorlin.

The noble man who, even as a sovereign, retained the warmth of heart
which had characterised him in his youth as a count, sincerely loved his
blithe, loyal, brave young countryman, whose father he had valued, whose
mother he highly esteemed, and who had been the dearest friend of the son
whom death had so early snatched from him.

He knew him thoroughly, and had watched his development with increasing
warmth of sympathy, the more so as many a trait of character which he
recognised in Heinz reminded him of his own nature and aspirations at his
age.

At the court of Frederick II he too had not always walked in the paths of
virtue but, like Heinz, he had never let this merge into licentiousness,
and had maintained the chivalrous dignity of his station even more
strictly than the former.

Neither had he at any time deviated from the sincere piety which he had
brought from his home to the imperial court, and this was far more
difficult in the train of the bold and intellectual Hohenstaufen, who was
prone to blaspheme even the holiest things, than for Heinz. Finally he,
too, had lapsed into the mood which threatened to lead the light-hearted
Schorlin into a monastery.

The mighty impulse which, at that time, owing to the example and
teachings of St. Francis in Italy, had taken possession of so many minds,