Father Christopher lingered long at his prayers on the wedding morning. There was in his heart so deep concern for the good of his beloved mistress, and so keenly did he feel the responsibility which rested upon him as the spiritual head of the castle, that he could not but be most profoundly anxious that naught of evil should come of this marriage.
The good priest was not without a secret consciousness that his consent to the union of Erna and Albrecht had been in no small degree due to the interest which the knight had aroused in him. He could not tell why he was so strongly attracted toward the stranger, and he endeavored to convince himself that it was because he recognized in Albrecht the possibilities of a high and spiritual life, and believed that it lay within the sphere of Erna's influence to bring these possibilities to fruition. The fascination of Albrecht's personality was so great, however, that it followed the man even into his closet, and made him secretly glad that the knight should have his will, whether it was to be justified to the mind of the priest or not.
It was still early in the morning, but from below the sounds of the preparations for the wedding rose to Father Christopher's ear. Somewhere over in the tower next to that in which was his cell, there sounded the tinkling of a rebec, as if one of the musicians were practising the minstrelsy with which the bridal pair were to be attended to church, and from the court below came the lusty voice of a knave that heeded not who slept, but sang in a full, lusty voice a rude song of the forest. The priest repeated his orisons, but it was hard to keep his thoughts fixed. Sighing, he rose at last from his knees.
"God grant I have not done amiss in consenting to this marriage," he said to himself. "At least I shall soon know how it lies with the soul of Sir Albrecht, for he comes to me for confession before the marriage. When I have shrived him I shall be lighter-hearted, albeit, God knows, I trust to find no evil in him. Even though, he added in his thought, I much misdoubt me of Herr von Zimmern, who has been his foster-father."
The sun was half-way to noon when Albrecht, with his firm, free stride, crossed the castle courtyard to join Father Christopher in the chapel, as had been arranged between them when the priest had requested the knight to receive shrift before he was united in marriage with Erna. The baron's bearing had in it little of that humility which might have seemed becoming in one who was on his way to confess his sins. His handsome head was carried well erect, and there was in his eye not only the joy of the bridegroom, but also a mischievous sparkle as of one who apprehends some merry jest which is forward. As he walked rapidly across the court, he hummed to himself under his breath a merry tune, ill suited to his pious errand.
The gloom and cool quiet of the chapel, as he entered the sacred place, checked for the moment Albrecht's song, and he went more soberly up the aisle between the rudely sculptured forms of dead and gone Von Rittenbergs, recumbent on their tombs in dismal state, until he found himself face to face with Father Christopher, who stood awaiting his penitent at the chancel. The chapel had already been decorated for the bridal, which indeed was to take place in little more than an hour's time, and all the air was fragrant with the odors of the boughs of pine. The damsel Elsa, who had had always a liking for the baron, and who liked him none the less since the kiss he had given her in the hall for her love-song, had taken it upon herself to see that the chapel was properly adorned and her skill and taste were alike evident from the result.
"I have kept thee waiting long, Father," Albrecht said, as he approached the priest; "but my servitor, whose illness was the cause of my first coming to the castle, is once more stricken down, and in the delirium of his fever he called for me so piteously that his fellow could not forbear to fetch me to his bedside. He believes, in his madness, that he is beset by wolves, and that none else save his master may avail to preserve him."
"It indeed waxes late," Father Christopher answered, "and it is well on toward an hour since the countess left me here. I have passed the time in prayers for her and thee, and perchance thou hast not so long a list of sins to confess that there will be lack of time, although it draweth toward noon and the hour of marriage."
As he spoke he moved toward the confessional, and with an expression of gravity which was new to him, the knight followed; but just at the moment when Albrecht kneeled to begin the recital of whatever transgressions might lie on his conscience, there arose without a horrid din, which penetrated the sacred place, rudely breaking up the stillness of the consecrated shrine. The leathern curtains which hung before the entrance were flung rudely aside, and with piercing cries............