He was still engaged in prayer, when a heavy oak-pannelled door, right opposite to him, was opened, and the fresh blooming faces of the longed-for absentees made their appearance in the hall. This time he had not heard the slightest sound on the staircase; and the fulfilment of his most anxious wishes came on him unexpectedly, as usually happens, when one’s wishes have been pure and good, and especially when one has prayed, in a right spirit, to the Fountain of all Mercy. The young people, however, were much distressed; they were moved to compassion and repentance, when they saw the tall venerable form of their guardian sitting in his arm-chair opposite to them, with clasped hands and a pale anxious countenance, blanched already by the cares of many past years, and now rendered paler than ever by the dim ghastly light of the declining candles. They felt immediately for whom he had prayed, and lifted up their clasped hands in the same manner, in order to express their gratitude, and beg his forgiveness. Sir Hugh, however, regained his usual composure, replaced his velvet cap on his head, and with a grave, though kindly manner, made signs that they should come nearer, and desired to know what had detained them so long? Then replied Otto von Trautwangen,--“Sir Knight, and my honoured father, if we had remained absent but a little longer, it would, according to my humble thoughts, have been better for us all, and especially for the beautiful lady with the ring; for the prize would have again been contended for, and the victory, as I hope, would have been ours. Now, Heaven knows how long I shall have to travel through the world, in order to fulfil my vows to the lady; and all this comes, because it has not been my fortune ere now to obtain the rank of knighthood.” On hearing these words, Sir Hugh looked at his son with astonishment, not so much on account of the expressions which he had used, but for the tone and manner, the complete change that within a few hours seemed to have taken place in the youth’s disposition and character. Bertha, meanwhile, began to weep bitterly, and without any attempt to conceal her tears; her affliction was indeed much greater than that of the beautiful Gabrielle for the loss of her ring. Hereupon Otto looked round with surprise, and, observing from his fair cousin’s eyes, that this was not the commencement of her distress, (for they were now swollen and clouded,) he said, in a faltering voice, “Dearest Bertha, then you have indeed wept all the way home. Wherefore did you answer ‘no,’ when I questioned you? And, above all, what is the cause of your affliction?” Bertha did not utter a word, but answered him only by a constrained and melancholy smile: then she begged of the old knight that she might be allowed to retire for this evening, and, hiding her face, directly left the chamber. Otto wished to detain her; but Sir Hugo, with a severe look, held him fast bound to his place at the table.