"Let it be put to the proof," said Hans. "Let the coffin be disinterred, and if the body be found therein I will lose my head on the spot where I stand; but if the body of the princess be not found therein, then shall ye, the champions of the two usurpers, lose _your_ heads." "It would be sacrilege to disturb the dead," said the knights. "We cannot agree to the proposition." But the people called out, "It is well said; 'tis a fair trial." The two knights began to remonstrate, but their voices were drowned by the herd, who wished the matter settled by the disinterment of the body. When the commotion had ceased a little Hans lifted up his voice, and said to the multitude, being instructed, as usual, by his spouse, "It is the pleasure of the Princess Bertha, whom you now see before you, that she be taken instantly to the presence of the arch-priest of this city, who has known her well from infancy, and who baptised her. He, as you all know, citizens, is a man of good repute. Should he recognise the Princess Bertha, let her have her rights; but if he says it is another like to her, let the coffin of the supposed defunct be opened publicly, that all may be satisfied." "Sacrilege, sacrilege!" cried the knights. "No, no!" cried the populace; "the stranger knight has well said. It is most fair. To the arch-priest, to the arch-priest!" The crowd made room for Hans, and conducted him to the palace of the arch-priest. When the good man saw this great crowd in front of his palace he came out to demand the reason, and was informed that the Princess Bertha, whom all believed to be dead, had returned to the city with a champion who was ready to maintain her right to the crown, provided that the arch-priest himself, who knew her well, should testify to her identity. "Show me this champion," said the priest. Hans then rode up, and holding in his hand the diminutive princess, placed her in the hands of the arch-priest. The crowd pressed hard together while the aged priest took out his spectacles and examined the tender form minutely. "In good sooth," he exclaimed, "it is the Princess Bertha and none other. My fair princess, what treachery has been at work to deprive thee of thy rights?" "You know me then, holy father?" "Know thee, daughter," quoth the old man, tenderly. "Methinks it were difficult to make a mistake." "You hear then, O people," cried the little princess, straining her feeble voice to its utmost pitch, till it resembled the squeaking of a fife; "you hear that the venerable arch-priest has recognised me." "Ay, ay, your royal highness; long life to you, and welcome to the throne!" cried the populace. Then a great cheering arose. "Long live the Princess Bertha, our rightful queen!" But some of the faction for the Princess Clothilde called out, "It is false; she is dead and buried, we will not be imposed upon by this man and his dwarf."