"Woman of the wood," called out Ekkehard imperiously, "put your house in order and pack up your things, for you must go!" The old woman seized her staff and cut a third notch. "Who is it, that is insulting me for the third time," growled she, "and who wishes to cast me out of my mother's house, like a stray dog?" "In the name of the Duchess of Suabia," continued Ekkehard solemnly, "and on account of your practising heathenish superstitions, and nightly idolatries, I banish you herewith from house and home; and bid you leave the land. Your chair shall be placed before the door of your hut, and you shall wander restlessly about, as far as the sky is blue, and christians visit the church; as far as the falcon flies on a day of Spring when the wind is carrying him along, faster than his wings. No hospitable door shall be opened to you; no fire be lighted to give you warmth; and may the wells deny you water, until you have renounced the powers of darkness, and made your peace with the almighty God; the judge of the living and dead." The woman of the wood had listened to him, without showing great emotion. "An anointed man, will insult thee three times under thy own roof," muttered she, "and thou shalt make a sign on thy staff, in witness of this; and with that same staff, thou shalt go out towards the setting sun, for they will not give thee sufficient ground, to rest thy head upon. Oh mother! My mother!" She then scraped her scanty belongings together, making a bundle of them; and taking her staff, prepared herself to go. The heart of the deacon of Singen was touched. "Pray God through his servants to have mercy on you, and perform some christian penance," he said, "so that you may find forgiveness." "For that, the woman of the wood is too old," she replied. Then she called her wood-pecker, which flew about her head; the raven followed, with a scared frightened look, and she had already opened the door and cast back one last look on the walls and fire-place, the herbs and horses' skulls, when she struck her stick violently on the threshold; so as to make the stone flags resound. "Be cursed ye dogs!" cried she; then followed by her birds, took the path leading into the woods, and disappeared. "And silent we go, a defeated tribe, Whose stars are all dying and sinking, Oh Iceland, thou icy rock in the sea, With thee, our fates we'll be linking!" was her low chaunt; slowly dying out, among the leafless trees. Ekkehard now put on the stole; and the deacon of Singen carrying the mass-book before him, they proceeded through chamber and closet. The walls were sanctified by the sign of the cross, so as to banish the evil spirits for ever; and finally, with prayers, he pronounced the mighty exorcism over the place.