Meanwhile Bertha beheld with horror her brother thus prostrate on the ground, and saw the vulture’s wings on the sea-knight’s helmet, shadowing his countenance that was now pale with rage; she thought of the horrid vision that she had seen in the mirror, and screamed out, “Vulture, vulture! have mercy on the noble prey that thou hast captured!” Then the sea-knight smiled kindly on her, and said,--“I shall do him no injury!” He bent again over Sir Heerdegen, saying,--“Thou art defenceless, wilt thou resign thyself? If so, be assured thou art in the hands of an honourable conqueror.” Heerdegen hung down his head with an expression of bitter regret and shame. The Norman then let him go, and went smiling to Bertha. “I trust,” said he, “that neither of you will regret the necessity you are now under of making a voyage with me for some time through the salt seas. I have honourably taken you prisoners; and, with regard to the damsel, the difference methinks is no more, than if she had two brothers instead of one. This newly-acquired brother is the elder of the two, or at least passes for such; and therefore it is right that you should follow his commands, and proceed in any path wherein he leads the way.” Thereupon he cried aloud,--“Let the boat be drawn up on the beach. Set sail in the ships! We must travel many miles yet by star-light!” Already, ere the sun had vanished over the mountains, the brother and sister had embarked in the state-vessel of the sea-knight, and floated away. The fleet consisted of but three ships, rapid of motion and strangely rigged. Bertha was forced to stand on the deck, and wept bitterly when the shores gradually vanished from her view,--when the evening fogs gathered on the land, and spread themselves out, as if, with longing arms, to embrace her. It was like a friendly salutation from the good-hearted, kind Lady Minnatrost. “Gladly would I go back to her,” said Bertha; “oh how gladly! But I shall never return again!” At that moment, a snow-white wood-pigeon flew around her, and cooed aloud; but the land vanished quite away in the obscurity of the night, and, as it were, melted into the waves. CHAPTER XVII. How Sir Otto von Trautwangen and the merchant Theobaldo fared in France.