Here the door opened, and Prechln of Buslar entered, pale as the
infant corpse that lay upon his arms. This corpse was dressed in
white with black ribbons, and a wreath of rosemary encircled the
little head; but, what was strange and horrible, a long black
beard depended from the infant's chin, which the wind, as the door
opened, blew backward and forward in the sorrowing father's face.
After him came his wife, wringing her hands wildly from grief, and
an old serving-maid.

Truly the whole convocation shuddered at the sight, but Bishop
Francis was the first to speak--

"And this is no devil's work?" he exclaimed. "Now, by my faith, ye
and your wise doctors are fools if ye deny this evidence. Come
nearer, poor fellow; set the corpse of your child down, and tell
us how it came to pass. We had heard of your strange affliction,
and just spoke thereon as you entered. Ha! the sorceress cannot
escape us now, methinks."

Now, when the mourning father began to tell the story, his wife
set up such a weeping and lamentation, and the old nurse followed
her example after such a lugubrious fashion, that their lordships
could not hear a word. Whereupon his Grace Duke Philip was obliged
earnestly to request that the women should keep silence whilst
Prechln of Buslar spoke.

I have already mentioned what grudge Sidonia had against him,
because he refused to acknowledge himself her feudal vassal by
kissing her hand; also, how she accused him afterward of stealing
her dog. This the poor knight related now at length, and with many