So his house was put in order. Hanging the game-bag, as well as a Hibernian canteen, over his shoulders, with two spears in his hands, and Cambutta fastened on his back,--thus old Moengal walked out of his parsonage, which had been his home for so many years; a valiant champion of the Lord! He had already gone on a few paces through the smoke-darkened atmosphere, when he suddenly stopped short, saying: "Wait a bit, I have forgotten something." So he quickly retraced his steps, murmuring: "The yellow-faced rascals shall at least find some written words of welcome." Arrived at his door, he drew a piece of red chalk from his pocket, and therewith wrote in large Irish characters a few words on the grey sandstone slab over the portal. Later rains have washed them away, and nobody has ever read them, but no doubt it was a significant greeting, which old Moengal left behind him in Irish runes.--Quickening his pace, he then took the direction of the Hohentwiel. CHAPTER XIV. The Battle with the Huns. Good Friday had come; but the anniversary of our Saviour's death, was not kept on the Hohentwiel this time, in the silent way which the prescriptions of the church require. By the arrival of old Moengal all doubts about the enemy's approach were dispersed. Late in the night a war-council was held, at which it was determined that they should go out to meet the Huns in open battle. The sun rose drearily on that day; soon being hidden again in mist. A fierce gale was blowing over the land, chasing the clouds along, so that they sank down on the distant Bodensee, as if water and air were to mingle together. Now and then, a solitary sun-beam struggled through. It was the as yet undecided battle which Spring was waging against the powers of Winter. The men had already risen, and were preparing for a serious day's work. In his closet, up in the watch-tower, Ekkehard was silently pacing up and down, his hands folded in prayer. A highly honourable commission had devolved on him. He was to preach a sermon to the united forces before they went out to battle, and so he was now praying for strength and inspiration, that his words might be like sparks, kindling the warlike flame in each breast. Suddenly the door opened, and in came the Duchess, unaccompanied by Praxedis. Over her morning-dress she had thrown an ample cloak, to protect herself against the cool air; perhaps also that she might not be recognized by the stranger guests, while going over to the watch-tower. A faint blush mantled on her cheeks, when she thus stood alone, opposite her youthful teacher. "You are also going out to battle, to-day?" asked she. "Yes, I go with the others," replied Ekkehard.