Knight Nithard assigned his estate to the cloister, and from that time forth many pilgrims journeyed to Pruem to see the arrow which had been carried there by angel hands. The storms of many centuries have blown over those hallowed walls, but the pictures in the old church belonging to the abbey still remain, thus preserving the legend from oblivion. AACHEN The Building of the Minster [Illustration: Karl der Grosse--Nach dem Gemaelde von Albrecht Duerer] As Charlemagne, the mighty ruler of the Franks, rode one day from his stronghold at Aix-la-Chapelle into the surrounding forest, his horse is said to have suddenly trodden upon a spring. On touching the water, the animal drew its foot back neighing loudly as if in great pain. The rider's curiosity was aroused. He alighted, and dipping his hand into the spring, found to his surprise that the water was very hot. Thus Charlemagne, as the legend records, discovered the hot spring which was to become the salvation of many thousands of ill and infirm people. The pious emperor recognised in this healthgiving spring the kind gift of Providence, and he resolved to erect near the spot a house of God, the round shape of which should remind posterity of the horse's hoof. The building was soon begun, and Charlemagne saw with great satisfaction the walls of the new minster rising high into the air. He was not however destined to see its completion. When he died, he had to leave the great Empire of the West to a feeble son, Lewis the Pious. The latter was compelled to draw his sword against his own children in order to assure for himself the crown he had inherited. Many a great undertaking that Charlemagne had begun, remained unfinished. The building of the minster too was interrupted. The ground was left desolate, and the walls and towers were threatened with decay before they were finished. It was quite useless for the honourable magistrate of the town to apply for money to the charitable Christian inhabitants. Contributions came in very slowly, and were never sufficient to finish the church. The aldermen of Aix-la-Chapelle would very often seriously debate the question, and discuss how they could remedy the grievous lack of money and successfully effect the completion of the minster. They found however that good counsel was just as rare as building material. Once when they were met thus together, a stranger was announced who said he had most important news to communicate. He was allowed to enter the session room. After having duly saluted the Council, he said modestly but without any shyness, "Gentlemen, my business, in a word, is to offer you the money for the completion of the church." The worthy aldermen looked in wonder first at the speaker, then at each other. They silently agreed in the opinion that the man before them looked very suspicious in his quaint outlandish clothes and his sharp pointed beard.