At these words, his eyes gleamed like two fiery beacons, from the vehemence of his emotion; but Otto scarcely perceived this, and had attended but little to what now passed. His whole heart was still fixed on the story and distresses of the forsaken Lisberta, till at last his melancholy found relief in words, and he began to relate to his companions the fortunes of his own life, but in the third person, as if the events had happened to another. Thus, he told them how happily he had lived on the banks of the Danube with his beloved cousin Bertha; but now a more powerful attachment had led him away from his home, and induced him to break these early ties; adding, how the two stories of unfortunate lovers had brought his attention painfully back to his forsaken cousin. To conclude, he could not help, in the simplicity of his heart, asking his companions whether they believed that Bertha too would die of grief, like the hermit of the forest, and the betrayed beauty of Milan. Hereupon the strange knight in rusty armour looked him sternly in the face, and, with a tone and demeanour so changed, that it seemed as if all the friendly feelings that he had before expressed had been frozen to ice within him; he said,--“As thou hast spoken so much of the Danube’s pleasant banks, and of a damsel named Bertha, perchance thou art called Otto von Trautwangen, and thy fair cousin is the Lady von Lichtenried?” Scarcely had Sir Otto answered in the affirmative, when the stranger rose up, placed the massive helmet which he had brought out with him upon his head, and said,--“It is good that we have thus met one another; for I am the Knight Heerdegen von Lichtenried, Bertha’s brother, who, after long laborious pilgrimages through the world, have now returned home, in hopes of finding my sister grown up in the bloom of health and beauty. I have been fortunate therefore in the opportunity granted me of avenging her wrongs on such a conceited and foolish babbler as thou art!” The conclusion of this discourse quite stifled in Otto’s heart the wish for reconciliation which he might otherwise have entertained, and in vehement haste he started up, in order to find his sword and helmet. Meanwhile, as he was thus arranging his armour, the Italian wished to interpose a few words of mediation; but Heerdegen answered him sternly, “Give yourself no trouble; if this young coxcomb, with his silver bright armour, has spoken the truth, then he ought to fall the victim of my revenge; if, on the other hand, he has uttered unmeaning and groundless words, he deserves, notwithstanding, chastisement for that fault.” By this time Otto stood prepared at the entrance of the portico, and pointed to a thicket of trees which stood below on the banks of the river. Sir Heerdegen immediately set himself to close his rusty visor, which was effected with a great crash, then placed himself by the side of his opponent, and they walked together towards the intended field of battle.