cherish, till at length he beheld a wicked bird come sweeping down from the clouds, tear it up, root and branch, and fly away with it over the seas; if one day such things should come to pass in thy presence, then couldst thou guess nearly what the old knight Hugh von Trautwangen felt at this moment.”--Thereupon the tears rushed into his eyes, that from age were now deep and hollow, and Otto was about to express the painful emotion with which his father’s words had inspired him. The knight, however, stepped firmly and proudly into the midst of the hall. “Young man,” said he, “this hour is far too important and solemn to admit of indulging faint-hearted regret over events which cannot be recalled. Kneel down then, Herr von Trautwangen, that thou mayst receive the dignity of knighthood.” Otto sank on his knees, and devoutly folded his hands; thus resembling one of those youthful figures, which we find on ancient marble monuments, of warriors untimely slain, with looks of pious simplicity and faith, waiting the hour of their resurrection. Sir Hugh, meanwhile, touched his son’s shoulders three times with the heavy blade, saying, “Suffer these blows now from my hand, but never from that of another man!” Then, drawing himself up to his full height, he said with solemn dignity, “Herr von Trautwangen; I have now, in right of my station as knight and banneret, conferred on you the full rank of the sacred order to which I belong. Fulfil your duties henceforth with honour and integrity, for the protection of distressed damsels, widows, and orphans; above all, for the service of our Redeemer and the glory of our holy religion. For the present, rise up, and let us embrace, like friendly comrades and brethren in arms.” Between Sir Hugh and his noble-minded son there had indeed always subsisted the utmost friendship and confidence; yet never had Otto’s heart heaved with so much filial affection as now, when he had acquired this proud rank of equality. Thereafter the old knight stepped, with sword in hand, towards a great massive shield, that shone like burnished gold, and hung right over his arm-chair. He struck on it three times, and at measured intervals, so that the high-vaulted hall reverberated, in deep tones like thunder, to the blows; immediately after which the apartment was filled with armed squires and domestics. Then, holding his son by the hand, he addressed them. “This,” said he, “is the brave young knight, Sir Otto von Trautwangen, and to-night he is to keep watch over his armour in the chapel. Bring to him, therefore, the bright coat of mail inlaid with silver, for that shall henceforth be his apparel. Carry it down to the chapel, and whoever wishes well to the old oak-tree of Trautwangen, and this our youngest scion, let him keep awake and joyous to-night; but forget not his fervent prayers to Heaven, that these solemn hours of preparation may bring forth prosperous and noble fruits, both for time and eternity. Amen.”