"And the chickens," said another, whose chief delight was in the poultry-yard,--"have we then, bought the three dozen turkeys merely for the enemy?" "If one were to write an impressive letter to them," proposed a third,--"they surely cannot be such barbarians, as to harm God and His saints." Simon Bardo, with a pitying smile, then said: "Thou hadst better become a shepherd, and drink a decoction of camomile,--thou who wouldst write impressive letters to the Huns! Oh, that I had brought my old firework-maker Kedrenus with me, over the Alps! Then we should cast a light on the enemy, far brighter than the mild moonshine in the flower-garden, which called up such tender recollections in the soul of Abbot Walafrid. We should then sink ships; and command the whole shore with our long fire-tubes. Hurrah! How they would be scattered to the winds, when our missiles would be flying through the air like fiery dragons, pouring down a rain of burning naphta. But what does any of you, know about such fire! Oh Kedrenus, thou paragon of firework-makers!" Ekkehard had entered the monastery, and asked for the Abbot. A serving brother showed him up to his apartments; but he was neither there, nor was he to be seen anywhere else. "He will most likely be in the armoury," said a monk passing by. So the serving brother led Ekkehard to the armoury, which was situated high up in the tower. There, quantities of arms and harness were heaped up; with which the monastery provided its warriors for the arrier-ban. Abbot Wazmann stood there, hidden by a cloud of dust. He had had the armour taken down from the walls, to examine it. Dust and cobwebs bore witness to its having rested for a long while. During the examination, the Abbot had not forgotten to provide for himself. His upper garment lay on the ground before him; and in its place, he had donned a coat of mail, with the help of a fair-haired cloister-pupil. He was now stretching out his arms, to see whether it fitted him tightly and comfortably. "Come nearer!" cried he, on seeing Ekkehard. "The reception is fitted to the times!" Ekkehard then communicated the Duchess's invitation, to him. "I should have asked for this, myself," replied he, "if you had not come." He had seized a long sword, and made a cut in the air with it; so that Ekkehard started back a pace or two. From the swift, whizzing sound which it produced, one could guess that the hand which held it, was not unaccustomed to its use. "Yes, 'tis getting serious," said he. "Down in Altdorf in the Shussenthal, the Huns have already effected their entrance; and we shall soon see the flames of Lindau, reflected in the water. Do you wish to choose a suitable armour for yourself also? This one, with the shoulder-strap, will defeat every blow or thrust as well, as the finest linen shirt, ever spun by a virgin in holy nights."