With this she rose and took him by the hand, and they two went back together to where the Bishop of Modenstein still prayed beside the body of the lady. Osra stood on one side of the body and stretched her hand out to the Prince who stood on the other side. "See," said she, "she must be between us." And having kissed the dead face once, she left the Prince there by the side of his love and herself went out; and, turning her head, she saw that the Prince knelt again by the corpse of his love. "He does not think of me," she said to the Bishop. "His thoughts are still with her, madame," he answered. It was late night now, and they rode swiftly and silently along the road to Strelsau. On all the way they spoke to one another only a few words, both being sunk deep in thought. But once Osra spoke, as they were already near to Strelsau. For she turned suddenly to the Bishop, saying: "My lord, what is it? Do you know it?" "Yes, madame, I have known it," answered the Bishop. "Yet you are a Churchman!" "True, madame," said he, and he smiled sadly. She seemed to consider, fixing her eyes on his; but he turned his aside. "Could you not make me understand?" she asked. "Your lover, when he comes, will do that, madame," said he, and still he kept his eyes averted. Osra wondered why he kept his eyes turned away; yet presently a faint smile curved her lips, and she said: "It may be you might feel it, if you were not a Churchman. But I do not. Many men have said they loved me, and I have felt something in my heart; but not this." "It will come," said the Bishop. "Does it come then to every one?" "To most," he answered. "Heigho, will it ever come to me?" she sighed. With this they were at home. And Osra was for a long time very sorrowful for the fate of the lady whom the Prince of Glottenberg had loved; yet, since she saw Ludwig no more, and the joy of youth conquers sadness, she ceased to mourn; but as she walked alone she would wonder more and more what it might be, this great love that she did not feel. "For none will tell me, not even the Bishop of Modenstein," said she. CHAPTER IX. The Victory of the Grand Duke of Mittenheim.