At the Reichstag of the year 1289, whose memory is shadowed by many a
sorrowful incident, most of the persons mentioned in our story met once
more.

Countess Cordula, now the happy wife of Sir Boemund Altrosen, had also
come and again lodged in the Ortlieb house. But this time the only
person whose homage pleased her was the grey-haired, but still vigorous
and somewhat irascible Herr Ernst Ortlieb.

The Abbess Kunigunde alone was absent. When, after many an arduous
conflict, especially with the Dominicans, who did not cease to accuse her
of lukewarmness, she felt death approaching, she had summoned her darling
Eva from Swabia, and the young wife's husband, who never left her save
when he was wielding his sword for the Emperor, willingly accompanied her
to Nuremberg.

With Eva's hand clasped in hers, and supported by Els, the abbess died
peacefully, rich in beautiful hopes. How often she had described such an
end to her pupil as the fairest reward for the sacrifices in which
convent life was so rich! But the memory of her mother's decease had
brought to Eva, while in Schweinau, the firm conviction that dwellers in
the world were also permitted to find a similar end. The Saviour Himself
had promised the crown of eternal life to those who were faithful unto
death, and she and her husband maintained inviolable fidelity to the
Saviour, to each other, and to every duty which religion, law, and love
commanded them to fulfil. Therefore, why should they not be permitted to
die as happily and confidently as her aunt, the abbess?

Her life was rich in happiness, and though Heinz Schorlin as a husband