On the morning of their departure Marguerite heard a gay song in the courtyard beneath her window; it was Cimburga, who was going to feed the doves. The birds immediately flew to meet their friend, settling on her shoulders, her head, and the basket in which she had brought their food, the sunlight bringing out the rose tints in the gray of their plumage. The girl scattered the grain with a lavish hand, and then held the end of a crust of bread between her white teeth, turning her face toward her shoulder, upon which two of the most impertinent of the doves had settled, followed by a host of others, who quarreled over the morsel at such a rate that Cimburga, laughing, threw it at them, saying, "Take it, then, greedy ones, since you can not wait." The Lady Marguerite called to the maid, and the latter glancing upward beheld a picture which she never forgot as long as she lived, and which always seemed to her like the recollection of a beautiful young saint who had come to life in its niche. In the arched window of the gray old castle stood the little princess, her bright uncovered hair like a halo about her face, which beamed upon the maid with a gracious smile. Marguerite was not an angel, as the jester had well said, but to the girl who now gazed upon her, and who had received so great a boon at her hands, she seemed more than human. The daughter of the Hapsburgs ignored for the moment the gulf that divided her from this child of the people, just as her father often did in similar circumstances. "Are you happy now, Cimburga?" she asked gently. "Oh, so happy, your gracious Highness, and all thanks to you!" returned the girl. "The mistress has given me a wedding dress of a beautiful blue, the color that belongs to the Blessed Virgin, and we are to be married next week. And Karl's father has found an inn for him farther south, called The Flying Fawn. And I am to be the landlady of an inn!" She paused and looked very serious for a moment at the thought of her new dignity. Then she broke into a peal of laughter at nothing at all, but just from pure happiness. "I am glad because you are glad, Cimburga," said the princess gently. "And indeed, your Highness, I shall pray every night to Saint Joseph to send you as good a husband as I have myself," continued the girl earnestly. Marguerite smiled at this, but after all there was many a prince who would not be so kind to his royal wife as humble Karl would be to the maiden of his choice. At Metz they were greeted by Marguerite's brother, a handsome boy known to history as Philip of Flanders. He was about to go to that country to remain, and so we shall see very little of him in this story. Everywhere in their own domain the emperor and his daughter had been received with every demonstration of delight by their loyal people, and at Metz they were royally entertained by the Duke of Lorraine, who caused to be given on his wonderful stage a play for their amusement.