So Rauching went into a neighbouring closet, which had been fitted up as a kitchen. The provisions were kept in different niches, and a few moments later, a white wreath of smoke curled up, from the rocky chimney. Shortly after, the cooking was done. A stone slab served as table. The crowning piece of the frugal repast was a pike; but the pike was old; moss growing on its head, and its flesh was tough, as leather. A jug of reddish looking wine, was also brought by Rauching; but _that_ had grown on the Sippling hills, a vintage which still enjoys the reputation of being the most sour of all the sour wines produced on the lake. Rauching waited upon them during the meal. "Well, what may your business be?" asked the old man, when the meagre repast was ended. "Evil tidings; the Huns are invading the country. Their hoofs will soon be treading the Suabian ground." "Good!" cried the old man. "That serves you right. Are the Normans also approaching?" "You speak strangely," said Ekkehard. The eyes of the old man lighted up. "And if enemies were to spring up around you, like mushrooms, you have deserved it well; you and your masters. Rauching, fill the glass; the Huns are coming,--_neque enim!_ Now you will have to swallow the soup, which your masters have salted for you. A great and proud empire had been founded, extending from the shores of the Ebro, to the Raab in the Danish land, into which not a rat could have entered, without faithful watchmen catching it. And this, the great Emperor Charlemagne ..." "God bless him," exclaimed Rauching. "... left behind him; strong and powerful. The tribes which had once put a stop to the Roman supremacy, were all united as they ought to be; and in those days, the Huns slily kept behind their hedges on the Danube, the weather not being favourable for them; and as soon as they tried to move, their wooden camp-town in Pannonia, was destroyed to the last chip, by the brave Franks. Later, the great ones in Germany, began to feel sorely, that not every one of them could be the master of the world; so each one must needs establish a government in his own territory. Sedition, rebellion and high-treason, well suited their tastes; and so they dethroned the last of Charlemagne's descendants, who held the reins of the world.--The representative of the unity of the realm has become a beggar; who must eat unbuttered water-gruel;--and now, your lords who preferred Arnulf the bastard and their own arrogance, have got the Huns on their heels, and the old times are coming back, as King Attila had them painted. Do you know the picture in the palace at Milan?...