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Updated: September 10, 2025
The baron and all his followers were listening intently to the minstrel, as, with a heaving breast and flashing eye, he recited the glory of Suabia and of her majestic duke. Even Father Omehr was carried away by the excited Humbert. But Gilbert's eyes and soul were riveted upon the Lady Margaret. What was the strain to him? he heard it not.
"It was sent me yesterday across the lake by a Benedictine monk," he said, when Father Omehr had finished reading and raised his eyes in wonder and delight. "And who has written it?" "A namesake of mine a Benedictine. It was not seen until after his death, when the manuscript was discovered in his cell.
"I heard your horse's hoofs, Father," she said, "and I came to get your blessing." "And you shall have it, Bertha," he answered, extending his hands over her head. "Good night," he added, seeing that she did not move. "Who is this you have brought us?" continued the woman, pointing to the duke. "That," replied Father Omehr, "is Rodolph, Duke of Suabia, and King of Arles."
She came unattended, save by an old female servant, who carried with some difficulty a basket filled with fruits, delicacies, and medicines of various kinds, designed for Father Omehr to apply to any purpose his piety might point out.
Every hour was full of misery day and night there was a gnawing at my heart. At last my mind gave way, and the justice of heaven struck him with death and me with madness!" Bertha paused an instant, quite exhausted, then again exerting herself, she said: "I do not ask you to forgive me but forgive each other." "They have forgiven each other already," said Father Omehr. "They are friends."
Father Omehr nodded, and dismissed the children, who had come for a parting blessing, while the maiden turned her palfrey toward the castle. She rode swiftly, for dark clouds were climbing up the knew the extent of his infatuation, he was revolving the feasibility of revealing his attachment. At last he had determined to embrace the first chance of declaring a love now past concealment.
The third Friday after Gilbert had been wounded, he mounted his horse, and, accompanied by Father Omehr, set out for the Castle of Hers, which lay some four leagues distant to the south. "You are sad, Father," said the youth, who felt all the exhilaration of returning strength, heightened by the freshness of the morning.
"Most humbly would I submit to His gracious interposition," said the duke, bending his head devoutly; "but can any human power prevent it?" "Yourself!" Rodolph buried his face in his hands and with rapid, nervous gestures paced up and down the small apartment. "Hear me!" he exclaimed, suddenly leading Father Omehr to a chair, and taking a seat beside him.
It was in the pause between these new indignities and the consecration of Hidolphe in the archbishopric of Cologne, that Father Omehr and Gilbert rode slowly on toward the Castle of Hers. The conversation naturally turned from the consideration of impending evils, to the miserable feud actually existing between the two houses of Hers and Stramen.
Father Omehr, for this was the name of Gilbert's companion, struck a light and made the young man sit down upon the bench, while he spread out upon the table some fruit and bread and wine. "Eat, my son," said the old man; "the wine is good and the bread is quite fresh. These grapes are better than any in Hers."
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