From that day when they rode together to the slaying of the heron by the stream in the meadow, there was a new bond between the Countess Erna and the Baron Albrecht. There had been nothing further said between them of love, even in the impersonal way in which they had then begun to talk of it, but the revelation of the glance which had then passed from her eyes to his changed all the old relations. They knew that they loved each other, and although they were not yet come to the confession in word of their love, they understood well that they belonged each to the other.

One day the countess sat at her embroidery in the hall, with her guest near her, and Father Christopher not far away. Without, a wild tempest of wind and rain shook the castle towers, and swept over forest and hill. From the casements one looked out upon a sea of mist that rolled above the tree-tops, beaten and torn by the wind, and lashing the hills in angry, mimic waves. All the weird voices of the Schwarzwald, melancholy or fierce, raged and wailed in the troubled air. It was a day when the unholy powers of the forest held high festival, and it was with inward shudders that Erna heard afar their hoarse tones, calling and yelling to one another in the storm.

Sitting at her embroidery frame without her damsels, who were scattered about the castle upon one mission or another, Erna talked with the baron and the priest, now and then thinking with dread of the night which was not far away, and hearing in her fancy already the roaring of the blast about the towers, the shrill cry of the Wild Huntsman, and the shrieks of his elfin train. When she looked up at the splendid form of her guest, however, her fears vanished in a breath, and she smiled that she should have found it possible to fear while he was at her side. In the warmth of his glance the tempest and all the dread dwellers in the forest were forgotten, and she was conscious only of the joy of his presence.

The knight had been asking concerning the armor of Erna's father, which hung in the hall; and from this the talk easily drifted to the Great Emperor, his noble deeds, his splendid army, and the brilliant court which he had gathered about him.

"How much I should like to see it all," the maiden said dreamily, as she looked earnestly at Albrecht; "the tourneys, the feasts, the processions, and all the beautiful court life."

Father Christopher regarded her in some amazement.

"Is it thou," he asked, "who sayest this? Thou who hast always been so thankful that thou wert spared the temptations and the worldliness of the court? Didst thou not refuse to go to Mayence when Charlemagne was there with his train, because thou didst not wish to fill thy mind with frivolous images?"

"So I did, Father, but mayhap my aunt was not wholly in the wrong when she called me a fool for my refusal," Erna answered, smiling.

"The court would ill suit me," Albrecht remarked, while the good priest remained sunk in astonishment at the change which the words of Erna indicated. "My choice is for the forest, for the hunt and the chase. The only thing at court that would attract me would be the tourney."

"Would that I might see thee in the lists!" Erna half murmured, leaning a little toward him.

"Mayhap that thou shalt," he replied. "Stranger things than this have come to pass. If thou dost, thou wilt see me break a lance in thy behalf right gladly."

"And thou no longer thinkest," Father Christopher interposed gravely, "that it is wrong for knights to risk their lives in mere wanton pastime?"

"Oh, there may be some danger," she returned with a slight air of impatience, "but why must one be forever troubling to examine too closely? Is there to be no pleasure in life lest harm should come after it, forsooth?"

Father Christopher left his seat, to stand for a moment looking at the countess as if in bewilderment. He did not in truth know what to make of his mistress in such a mood as this, so different was it from all that she had ever been before. He seemed minded to speak, and then, as if reflecting that her words did not after all contain aught which he was called upon to regard with severity, and perhaps that in any case what he might wish to say to her would be delivered better privately, he sighed deeply, and moved away without further speech. Erna looked after him as he slowly passed down the hall, the edge of his robe here and there catching upon one of the rushes with which the floor was strewn.

"Poor Father Christopher!" she said with a low, sweet laugh, "I have grieved him. It is a pity to make him unhappy. I never used to do that."

She regarded her gay-colored embroidery a moment absently, as if she did not see it; then suddenly she dropped the hand which held her needle and leaned toward her companion.

"What hast thou done to me?" she demanded. "Hast thou bewitched me, that all the things that I loved have become dull to me, and all the things which I wished not for are now in my thoughts with longing?"

A roaring blast shook the castle windows, and it was as if the spirits of the storm, s............