approached Eva, with the Burgravine still leaning on his arm.

She did not notice it; she was vainly trying to interpret the meaning of
Cordula's words. True, she did not know that when no messenger brought
Heinz Schorlin's intercession for Biberli, in whose fate the countess
felt a sincere interest, she had commanded her own betrothed husband to
ride his horse to death in order to tell the master of the sorely
imperilled man what danger threatened his faithful servant, and remind
him, in her name, that gratitude was one of the virtues which beseemed a
true knight, even though the matter in question concerned only a servant
Boemund Altrosen had obeyed, and must have overtaken Heinz long ago and
probably aided him to rout the Siebenburgs and their followers. But
Cordula read the young Bohemian's child heart, and it afforded her
special pleasure to deal her a heavy blow in the warfare they were
waging, which perhaps might aid another purpose.

The surprise and bewilderment which the countess's answer had aroused in
Eva heightened the spell of her beauty.

Had she heard aright? Could Heinz really have sued for the countess's
hand and been accepted? Surely, surely not! Neither was capable of such
perfidy, such breach of faith. Spite of the testimony of her own ears,
she would not believe it. But when she at last saw the Emperor's tall
figure before her, and he gazed down at her with a kind, fatherly glance,
she answered it with her large blue eyes uplifted beseechingly, and
withal as trustilly, as if she sought to remind him that, if he only
chose to do so, his power made it possible to convert everything which
troubled and oppressed her to good.

The tearful yet bright gaze of those resistless eyes pierced the