"Nay," replied Baron Albrecht, "they troubled us not; though we were aware of them as they passed us by," he added, smiling. "Thou art a bold knight," she murmured beneath her breath. "Truly thou art favored of heaven," Father Christopher said, "if the wood-sprites can do thee no harm." The countess looked at the stranger with admiration and astonishment. Bold as were the knights who had made the name of her family respected far and near, they had not been free from the fear of the wild folk of the wood, and it was with a thrill that she looked at the stranger knight as he avowed his fearlessness. "At least now," she said, "we will do what is in our power for thee, whether it be to protect thee against the dangers of the forest or to offer thee rest and refreshment." She gave the necessary orders, and passed down the hall again the way she had come. As she ascended the winding stair which led up toward her chamber, she turned and looked backward. The Baron von Waldstein stood where she had left him, and his eyes were fixed upon her retreating figure with a gaze which made her thrill with mingled confusion and pleasure. She turned away her face with a blush which she could not repress, and hastened on. In her chamber Erna found her great-aunt, all alive with eager curiosity. "Who is he?" Lady Adelaide demanded. "Elsa says he is the handsomest man alive, and that his jewels are wonderful. Is it so? Didst thou notice them?" "He is certainly handsome," Erna answered. "As for his jewels, I do not think I noticed them; but now that thou speakest of it, I do remember that there was a splendid red fiery gem on the front of his corselet. It shone so that it caught my eye from the top of the stair as I went down." "It must be a carbuncle," the old lady responded. "He must be a knight of much consequence; and yet I cannot remember that I ever heard of the Von Waldsteins in my life. I wonder if I have ever seen any of the family. How does he look?" "He looks," replied her niece absently, "like a woodland god." Her eyes, as she spoke, fell on the scroll she had been reading earlier in the morning. The place had been the passage in which Saint Cuthbert warns against the snares of appearances. She sighed and turned away from the eager questioning of her companion to take again the pious scroll; but when the Lady Adelaide, grumbling that her curiosity could not be gratified, had left the chamber, the parchment slipped unheeded to the floor, and the countess looked out over the undulating waves of the pine forest with eyes that saw not, so deeply was she absorbed in reverie. The sage words of Saint Cuthbert were forgotten, and she dreamed of the splendid knight of whom she knew nothing but what was to be learned from those appearances against the deceitfulness of which the page she had been reading admonished in vain. III HOW THE KNIGHT SANG.