It was a spacious chamber, with arched windows supported on pillars, and was entered by the same passage, which also led to the Duchess's hall and chambers. Now the impressions which a man takes with him, from his lonely cloister-cell, are not to be shaken off in one single night, and Ekkehard reflected how often he might be disturbed in his meditations, if the tread of armour-clad men, or the softer footstep of serving maids, were to pass his door; where he might even hear the mistress of the castle, passing up and down, in her chambers. So he simply addressed himself to the Duchess saying: "I have a favour to ask of you, my liege lady." "Speak," said she mildly. "Could you not give me besides this grand room, a more distant and solitary little chamber, no matter whether it be high up under the roof, or in one of the watch-towers? One great requirement for the study of science, as well as the exercise of prayer, is perfect quiet, according to the rules of the cloister!" On hearing this, a slight frown overshadowed Dame Hadwig's fair brow. It was not a cloud,--only a cloudlet. "If you wish to be often quite alone," said she with a satirical smile, "why did you not stay at St. Gall?" Ekkehard bowed his head and remained silent. "Stay," cried Dame Hadwig, "your wish shall be fulfilled. You can look at the room in which Vincentius, our chaplain lived till his blessed end. He also had the taste of a bird of prey, and preferred being the highest on the Hohentwiel, to being the most comfortable. Praxedis, get the large bunch of keys and accompany our guest." Praxedis obeyed. The chamber of the late chaplain, was high in the square tower of the castle. Slowly she ascended the winding staircase, followed by Ekkehard. The key grated in the long unused lock, and creaking on its hinges the heavy door swung back. They entered,--but what a sight was before them! Where a learned man has lived, it takes some time to destroy all traces of him. The room in question, of moderate size and with white-washed walls, contained but little furniture; dust and cobwebs covering everything. On the oak table in the middle stood a small pot, that had once served as an inkstand, but the ink had long been dried up. In one corner stood a stone jug, which in former times had probably held the sparkling wine. On a rough book-shelf were some books, and close by, some open parchments;--but oh misery!--a storm had broken the little window; so Vincentius's room, after his death, had been open to sunshine and rain, to insects and birds. A flock of pigeons taking undisputed possession, had snugly settled down, among all the book-wisdom. On the epistles of St. Paul and Julius Cæsar's Gallic wars, they had built their nests, and now looked with surprise at the intruders.