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Updated: May 2, 2025
The horse was brought; the refreshments disposed of; the clattering steps of the departing steed were heard in the court-yard; but the Margrave took no notice of his friend, and sat, plunged in silent grief, quite motionless by the empty bedside. The Hombourger led his horse down the winding path which conducts from the hill and castle of Godesberg into the beautiful green plain below.
"What's o'clock?" was the first natural exclamation of the Hombourger. "I believe it is five o'clock," said his friend. It was ten. It might have been twelve, two, half-past four, twenty minutes to six, the Margrave would still have said, "I BELIEVE IT IS FIVE O'CLOCK." The wretched take no count of time: it flies with unequal pinions, indeed, for THEM. "Is breakfast over?" inquired the crusader.
And the next moment, muttering a hasty matin, he sprung down the ledge of rock, and was by the side of the combatants. The battle was over. Good knight as Sir Gottfried was, his strength and skill had not been able to overcome Sir Ludwig the Hombourger, with RIGHT on his side.
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