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Updated: May 13, 2025
Down came the drawbridge, and the portcullis rose and fell, leaving them on the other side of the moat, surrounded by the men of Stramen. They were conducted with much respect to a comfortable room in the castle, and the arrival announced to the Lord Sandrit de Stramen.
Though somewhat loath to unite in any undertaking with his sworn enemy, Sir Sandrit had learned to subdue his personal prejudices for the welfare of Germany. And perhaps his desire to avenge his recent wrongs overpowered his aversion to the author of older injuries.
They were ushered into a spacious room, hung with armor and broidered tapestry. By a blazing fire were seated the baron and Father Omehr, and some paces behind them stood several attendants. Sir Sandrit rose and saluted the minstrel with much courtesy, and bade him warm himself at the genial hearth.
He saw in the wreck before him the fruits of his sin; Bertha's misery and madness seemed wholly his own unhallowed work. The strong man shuddered at the consequences of his folly, and beat his breast, and wept like a child. Sandrit of Stramen also accused himself of having caused the feud by his rash credulity, and driven Bertha to perjury and insanity by his impetuous and uncontrollable temper.
After she had disappeared, the baron dismissed the guests and retained the minstrel. Seizing this opportunity, Humbert told Gilbert he might retire until he was called, and the youth passed out, leaving behind only a few favorite retainers with Sir Sandrit and the minnesinger. As the door closed behind him, Gilbert found himself in a long and dimly lighted corridor.
'Come! I said to Albert, 'let us take the body to Sir Sandrit, and tell him that we found it in a spot from which we had just seen the Lord of Hers depart. He refused at first, and would not touch the body, but by argument and entreaty, I prevailed upon him to be guided by me. "Sandrit of Stramen, you know the rest.
"And I know you, Sir Albert of Hers, and I know that God has brought you here at this moment." The stout warrior, who never quailed before any odds, and whose self-possession was as remarkable as his valor, quivered before the mournful gaze of that weak woman. The room seemed to reel, and he leaned against the wall for support. "There is one other I must see Sandrit of Stramen.
Scarce knowing whether to credit the confused story of the unfortunate woman, Sir Sandrit had ordered Gilbert's arrest, rather to get rid of Bertha's importunity than as a prudent or necessary measure. When the youth entered the room with Margaret, Bertha, and his armed escort, the baron said, without any irritation: "Is this a Bohemian, my daughter? Has he been telling your fortune?"
"Let us thank God for having thus united us!" said the Lady Margaret, and they remained some minutes in silent prayer. "Father!" whispered the invalid. The broad chest was convulsed and the moan deepened, but that bent, crushed figure made no reply. "Father!" she repeated, as her hand fell, in a caress, upon her parent's head. Sir Sandrit, starting at her touch, looked up and seized the hand.
Early in the spring of 1077, toward the close of a cold, bright day, Rodolph was seated in his palace at Zurich, surrounded by Albert of Hers and Gilbert, on one side, and on the other, by Sandrit and Henry of Stramen.
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