Her uncle, however, not heeding her reply, proceeded: "That one on the grey horse is Truchses von Waldburg, second in command. He also owes a debt of gratitude to our Würtemberg. Behind him come the colonels of the League. By heaven! they look like hungry wolves seeking for prey." "Oh! what a set of miserable figures," remarked Marie to her cousin Bertha, "they surely are not worth the trouble we have taken of dressing; but hold, who is that young man in black on the brown horse? just look at his pale countenance, with his fiery black eyes; on his shield is written, 'I have ventured.'" "That is the knight Ulerich von Hutten," replied the old man. "May God forgive his calumny against our Duke. Children! he is a learned, pious man, but the Duke's bitterest enemy; and I say so, for what is true must remain true. And there, those are Sickingen's colours. Truly, he is there himself! Look this way, girls; that is Franz von Sickingen. It is said he brings a thousand horsemen into the field; that is him, with the plain cuirass and red feather." "But tell me, uncle," asked Marie again, "which of them is Götz von Berlichingen, of whom cousin Kraft has related so much to us; he is a powerful man, by all accounts, and has a hand of iron; does not he ride among the burghers?" "Do not name Götz and the burghers in the same breath," said the old man, seriously; "he holds for Würtemberg." The greatest part of the procession had, during this conversation, passed by under the windows; and Marie remarked, with astonishment, the indifference and unconcern with which her relation Bertha viewed it. The usual manner of her cousin was thoughtful; indeed, at times she appeared in a state of absence to all surrounding objects; but on such a day as this, to be so perfectly insensible to the brilliancy of the passing scene, was, in Marie's mind, to be guilty almost of impropriety. She was just on the point of upbraiding her, when her attention was called to a sudden noise in the street. A large, powerful horse was prancing immediately under their window, having probably taken fright at the waving ensigns of the trades. The high crest and flowing main of the steed sheltered the rider's face, and the feathers only of his cap were visible to the spectators at the window; but the adroitness and ease with which he managed his horse and kept him under command, proved him to be a skilful cavalier. In his exertion to quiet him, his light-brown hair had fallen over his face, and as he threw it back, his look fell on the bow-window of the corner house. "Well at last there is a handsome young man," whispered Marie to her neighbour, so softly and secretly as if she feared to be overheard by him; "and how polite and courteous he is! Look! I really think he has saluted us, without knowing who we are."