A short pause ensued, after he had finished the reading of his poem. Then the Duchess approached him with outstretched hand, "Ekkehard I thank you." They were the same words, which she had once said to him in the cloister courtyard at St. Gall; but the tones were still milder than at that time; her eyes sparkled and her lips wore a wondrous smile, like that of sweet-eyed fairies, which is said to be followed by a shower of delicious roses. Then turning to Praxedis she continued, "and thee I ought to condemn to ask his pardon on thy very knees, for having but lately spoken with so little veneration of learned and ecclesiastical men." But the Greek maiden's eyes sparkled archly, well knowing that without her help and advice, the shy monk would scarcely have been able to attain this success. "In future I will give him all the reverence that's due," said she. "I will even weave him a garland if you desire it." After Ekkehard had gone up to his little chamber, the two women still sat up together, and the Greek maid fetched a basin filled with water; some pieces of lead and a metal spoon. "The lead-melting of last year, has prophesied well," said she. "We could then, not quite understand, what the strange shape was, which the lead assumed in the water;--but now I am almost sure that it resembled a monk's cowl; and that, our castle can now boast off." The Duchess had become thoughtful. She listened to hear whether Ekkehard might not be returning. "It is nothing but an idle amusement," said she. "If it does not please my mistress," said the Greek, "then she might order our teacher to entertain us with something better. His Virgil, is no doubt a far better oracle, than our lead; when opened on a consecrated night, with prayers and a blessing. I wonder now, what part of his epic would foretell to us, the events of the coming year." "Be silent," said the Duchess. "He spoke but lately so severely on witchcraft; he would laugh at us ..." "Then we shall have to content ourselves with the old way," returned Praxedis; holding the spoon with the lead in it over the flame of the lamp. The lead melted and trembled; and muttering a few unintelligible words, she poured it into the water; the liquid metal making a hissing sound. Dame Hadwig, with seeming indifference, cast a look at it, when Praxedis held the basin up to the light. Instead of dividing into fantastic shapes, the lead had formed a long pointed drop. It glimmered faintly in Dame Hadwig's hand. "That is another riddle, for time to solve," laughed Praxedis. "The future, this time closely resembles a pine-cone." "Or a tear," said the Duchess seriously, leaning her head on her right hand.