Theobaldo and Otto kneeled beside him to render their assistance. The helmet, already almost broken in pieces by the vehemence of Otto’s last attack, was quickly loosed, and Sir Heerdegen’s visage was found covered with blood. Otto, who was well skilled (as every knight ought to be) in the healing art, washed it carefully away; whereupon it was discovered, that the wound began on the right side of the forehead, from whence it stretched across between the eyebrows, and came down over the right cheek. A proper bandage was provided, and securely fixed; but the knight continued to lie there insensible and motionless, as if he were already dead, and in his pale visage, now divested of its former stem expression, a resemblance to Bertha was clearly discernible. As he thus bent over his fallen foe, Sir Otto wept bitterly. An old story came now to his remembrance, which Sir Hugh had often related of a knight, who, in the confusion of the battle-field, had slain his beloved mistress, who was dressed in a coat of mail, which he mistook for that of an enemy; and now he almost accused himself of being Bertha’s murderer. “Ay,” said he to himself, “I deserve no other name. The careless mood in which I took my departure inflicted the first deadly blow, and with her brother’s life I have cut asunder the last ties that bound her to this world!” The young merchant reminded him, that it was now time to carry the wounded man back to their inn, for the evening was drawing on, and rest in bed was, of all remedies, the most needful. Thereupon they took up their yet insensible companion, and bore him away on their shoulders in such manner, that Theobaldo alone had his head to support; “for,” said Otto mournfully, “if he should awake on the road, he would rather behold your countenance than mine; while, on the other hand, his features remind me so painfully of the forsaken Bertha, that I dare not look on him.” After his arrival at the inn, where he was attended by two of his own squires, Sir Heerdegen again recovered his senses; and on learning that Otto intended to remain there, probably as long as his antagonist’s life was in danger, he said,--“Knight of Trautwangen, if you entertain in reality any friendly intentions towards me, then I beseech you to take your departure this evening, or, if it be possible, within this very hour. Even to look upon you, or hear your voice, has become so intolerable, that, without doubt, I must die if I am any longer subjected to such torment.” In a mood of deep melancholy, Otto then left the wounded Sir Heerdegen, and rode away under the light of the moon and stars, (which were then just risen,) along a road fragrant with blooming woods and flowers, which led towards the town, Theobaldo bearing him company, and riding by his side. CHAPTER IX. How Sir Otto was entertained by the Merchant.