Tossing to and fro, the Count of Ehrenstein remained sleepless and agitated throughout the night; at one time he thought he would rise and obey the awful summons he had received, either alone or accompanied by all whom he could gather together, but then again his heart failed him, and the hour passed by without his regaining sufficient courage to dare the result. At length, much to his relief, the glimmering light of dawn began to shine through the window; and, rising, he roused his attendants, and gazed moodily from the casement for several minutes. "Let two men go down to the chapel in the wood," he said, "and bring up the priest, Father George, instantly. He may be alarmed, so give him every assurance of safety; but bring him by force, if he do not come willingly. These monks," he continued, speaking to himself, as the men went to obey his mandate, "how they encroach upon all their neighbours! Here, not content with lording it over every one around, they must needs plant this chapel within the very lands of Ehrenstein, like an outpost thrown forward by an invading army into an enemy's territory. What fools our ancestors must have been to suffer such things! It is prescription makes them strong--ay, and our own weak hearts.--Judgment! Could it be a dream? How often slumber will cheat us with visions so like reality, that even when they are past, we know not whether they be true or false--and yet I have not slept since." "My lord, one of the pages of Count Frederick has brought this note," said a servant entering. The Count took it, cut the silk, and read; then calling the boy in, he said, "Be it where Count Frederick pleases; bid him use this castle as if it were his own. Why, boy, how white thy cheek looks. Remember, none need fear but those who betray their lord. So go and give my message to your master.--Ferdinand of Altenburg," he continued, murmuring to himself, "your hour is coming!" CHAPTER XXXI.