the party at length quitted their places, and proceeded, keeping time to mirthful music, up the castle hill. During their march, it was a pleasure to see how the light of their torches and lamps gleamed along the rocky paths through the shades of the now descending night. CHAPTER XXIII. How Sir Otto vanquished the Knight of Montfaucon. On the morning of the following day, at an early hour, there arose great tumult and bustle in the spacious court of the castle, which was covered with green turf, and planted on all sides with rows of tall lime-trees. There were posts driven into the ground, and rails laid upon them, as a grating, which should keep the by-standers at a proper distance, and this grating was also hung with embroidered drapery. Within the lists there were brought carts full of dry white sand, which the squires spread carefully over the turf, so that both man and horse might have firmer footing thereon, than the slippery grass would have afforded. Meanwhile, Don Hernandez and the Count de Vinciguerra were seen hastening hither and thither, giving orders, and attending to all the preparations; for, on the preceding evening, it had been agreed that they were to act as umpires and seconds at the combat. After mature deliberation, they laid down the exact dimensions for the lists, and tried how both champions might be placed with equal advantages of wind and sunlight. For the ladies they had erected a grand stage among the branches of the lime-trees; so that, sitting therein, they were at once shaded and protected, yet at the same time had a free view of the battle-field. A multitude of spectators had already collected, waiting with impatience for the knights and ladies, who were to play the principal parts at this tragic festival. The Chevalier de Montfaucon and the Knight of Trautwangen meanwhile donned their armour in separate chambers. In the service of the latter, his friend Theobaldo was this day more zealous than ever, evincing a degree of anxiety and tenderness which was to him quite unusual. From the eagle-helmet down to the golden spurs, he examined minutely every plate, belt, and buckle, now drawing them tight, now loosening them again, and yet never found his arrangements good enough for his master and friend. Sir Otto looked at him kindly, and said, “How is this, Theobaldo? You seem as melancholy and anxious, as if you were arming me for the last time!” “That may indeed be so,” answered the merchant; “sad feelings and sad words often turn into true prophecies!” Then, deeply moved, he bent his head over the knight’s yet unarmed right hand.