Albrecht and the priest both sprang to their feet, startled and amazed at this unexpected interruption; and the fleeing figure rushed down the nave to fling itself at the feet of the baron, where it knelt, clasping his knees and revealing in the dull light the disordered features of the fever-stricken man-at-arms. "The wolves, Master!" he shrieked in accents of terror. "Save me! Save me!" Down the aisle of the chapel came limping the sinister figure of Herr von Zimmern, who seemed to be in pursuit of the sick man. "I tried to stop him," he said, with a singular smile which brought a sudden frown to Albrecht's brow, "but he escaped from me, and because of my infirmity I could not keep pace with him. He is stark mad till this fit passes, but after, he will perchance be as well-witted as ever he has been." He stooped over the sick man, and endeavored to persuade him to allow himself to be led away; but the man-at-arms could not be torn from his hold upon the knees of Albrecht, to whom he clung with the desperate clutch of a wretch who clings for life to some last hope. "It is useless," Father Christopher said, after they had for some moments united their efforts in a vain endeavor to bring the sick man to reason. "He is too fully possessed by his fears and the madness of his sickness to be within the reach of our words. He will yield to no one save to the baron, and unless thou art willing, Sir Knight, to lead him back to his chamber, I know not if he may not remain here till the very hour set for thy marriage. It would but ill accord with the place to use violence, and he is not minded to quit his hold on thee." The madman had by this time thrown himself upon the pavement, as with heart-rending cries he called upon his master to rescue him in his peril, and not to leave him to be devoured alive. His yells had called half the servants of the castle to the spot, and the more superstitious of them crossed themselves in fear at sight of an omen so doubtful and fearful on the morn of their mistress' wedding day. They whispered together of their fears, and some of them recalled the signs which had attended the coming of the baron to the castle. "The wood-folk are wroth," one old crone whispered to her favorite gossip. "They have smitten the churl, and who knows what power they may have over the master? Holy Wood of the Cross, but I fear me for the well-born countess!" The confusion every moment waxed greater. The sick man had torn off his clothing until he grovelled upon the cold stone floor wellnigh as naked as he had been born, while his powerful hands, as yet all unwasted by his sickness, were clasped about the legs of Albrecht with a grip like that of the mountain bear in its fury when the huntsmen have reft away its cubs and it clutches the dogs in a last desperate struggle. Herr von Zimmern stooped down and took the man-at-arms strongly by the shoulder.