"The castled crag of Drachenfels Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine, Whose breast of water broadly swells Between the banks which bear the vine, And hills all rich with blossomed trees, And fields which promise corn and wine, And scattered cities crowning these, Whose fair white walls along them shine." BYRON, _Childe Harold_. With pallid cheeks and tear-dimmed eyes, Hildegarde now spent her life either in her tiny cell or in the convent chapel, praying for the soul of her beloved, and longing that death might soon come to set her free to join him. The legend relates, however, that Roland was not dead, as she supposed, but had merely been sorely wounded at Roncesvalles. When sufficiently recovered to travel, Roland painfully made his way back to Drachenfels, where he presented himself late one evening, eagerly calling for Hildegarde. A few moments later the joyful light left his eyes forever, for he learned that his beloved had taken irrevocable vows, and was now the bride of Heaven. That selfsame day Roland left the castle of Drachenfels, and riding to an eminence overlooking the island of Nonnenwörth, he gazed long and tearfully at a little light twinkling in one of the convent windows. As he could not but suppose that it illumined Hildegarde's cell and lonely vigils, he watched it all night, and when morning came he recognized his beloved's form in the long procession of nuns on their way to the chapel. [Sidenote: Rolandseck.] This view of the lady he loved seemed a slight consolation to the hero, who built a retreat on this rock, which is known as Rolandseck. Here he spent his days in penance and prayer, gazing constantly at the island at his feet, and the swift stream which parted him from Hildegarde. One wintry day, many years after he had taken up his abode on the rocky height, Roland missed the graceful form he loved, and heard, instead of the usual psalm, a dirge for the dead. Then he noticed that six of the nuns were carrying a coffin, which they lowered into an open tomb. Roland's nameless fears were confirmed in the evening, when the convent priest visited him, and gently announced that Hildegarde was at rest. Calmly Roland listened to these tidings, begged the priest to hear his confession as usual, and, when he had received absolution, expressed a desire to be buried with his face turned toward the convent where Hildegarde had lived and died. The priest readily promised to observe this request, and departed. When he came on the morrow, he found Roland dead. They buried him reverently on the very spot which bears his name, with his face turned toward Nonnenwörth, where Hildegarde lay at rest. CHAPTER IX. THE SONS OF AYMON.