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Updated: May 12, 2025
"It was the Blessed Friedmund," said Eberhard. "Never hath he so greeted one of our race since the pious Freiherrinn Hildegarde. Maiden, hast thou brought us back a blessing?" "Ah! well may she be blessed well may the saints stoop to greet her," murmured Christina, with strangled voice, scarcely able to control her sobs. Father Norbert came towards them.
This disaster did seem to have fallen out, and he had meant at once to offer himself to the lady as her supporter and advocate, able to bring about all her son could desire; though he owned that his hopes would have been higher if the survivor had been the gentle, friendly Friedmund, rather than the hot and imperious Eberhard, who he knew must be brought very low ere his objections would be withdrawn.
Baron Friedmund had been the last common ancestor of the two branches of the family, the patron saint was so called, his wake was her wedding- day, the sound of the word imported peace, and the good Barons Ebbo and Friedel had ever been linked together lovingly by popular memory.
"Go home; tell my mother all the world that Christina Sorel is my wife, wedded on the Friedmund Wake by Friar Peter of Offingen, and if she should bear a child, he is my true and lawful heir. My sword for him my love to her. And if my mother would not be haunted by me, let her take care of her."
But Kunigunde caught the sound, and exclaimed, "No son of Adlerstein shall bear abase craftsman's name. Sir Kasimir marked her trouble. "The lady mother loves not the sound," he said, kindly. "Lady, have you any other wish? Then will I call him Friedmund." Christina had almost smiled. To her the omen was of the best.
"Because," said Friedel, low and mysteriously "my brother would not have my mother know it, but Count Schlangenwald demanded whether we could prove my father's death." "Prove! He could not choose but die with three such wounds, as the old ruffian knows. I shall bless the day, Sir Friedmund, when I see you or your brother give back those strokes! A heavy reckoning be his."
"Not so," returned Hatto, "our gracious Frau Freiherrinn, the younger, was wedded to him at the last Friedmund Wake, by the special blessing of our good patron, who would not see our house extinct."
"Thanks; I would that we could see strange lands!" said Ebbo. "But come, Friedel, the sun is high, and I locked them all into the castle to make matters safe." "May the liberated captive know the name of his deliverers, that he may commend it to the saints?" asked the merchant. "I am Eberhard, Freiherr von Adlerstein, and this is Freiherr Friedmund, my brother. Farewell, sir."
"Now know I that it is indeed as saith Schleiermacher," he said, "and that these phantoms of the Blessed Friedmund are but shadows cast by the sun on the vapours of the ravine. See, Friedel, I had gone to seek thee at the chapel, and meeting Father Norbert, I bent my knee, that I might take his farewell blessing. I had the substance, thou the shadow, thou dreamer!"
Friedmund, anxious to prove that his new honours were not to alter his home demeanour, was drawing on a block of wood from a tinted pen-and-ink sketch; Ebbo was deeply engaged with a newly- acquired copy of Virgil; and their mother was embroidering some draperies for the long-neglected castle chapel, all sitting, as Master Gottfried loved to have them, in his studio, whence he had a few moments before been called away, when, as the door slowly opened, a voice was heard that made both lads start and rise.
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