It seemed as if the unready captain would get no word said, for again before he had made answer the girl spoke to the Countess. “I do implore your Ladyship to grant me speech with you.” The Countess looked down doubtfully upon the supplicant, evidently prejudiced by her rags and wildly straying hair. The captain cleared his throat and opened his mouth, but the girl eagerly forestalled him. “Turn me not away, my Lady, because I come in unhandsome guise, for I have travelled far through forest and over rock, climbing hills and skirting the river’s brink to be where I am. The reluctant wilderness, impeding me, has enviously torn my garments, leaving me thus ashamed before you, but, dear Lady, let not that work to my despite. Grant my petition and my prayer shall ever be that the dearest wish of your own heart go not unsatisfied.” “Alas!” said the Countess, with a deep sigh, “my dearest wish gives little promise of fulfilment.” Conrad, seeing that the lady thought of her lost son, frowned angrily, and in low growling tones bade the girl have a care what she said, but Elsa was not to be silenced and spoke impetuously. “Oh, Countess, the good we do often returns to us tenfold; mercy calls forth mercy. An acorn planted produces an oak; cruelty sown leaves us cruelty to reap. It is not beyond imagination that the soothing of my bruised heart may bring balm to your own.” “Take the girl to the east room, Conrad, and let her await me there,” said the Countess. “With a guard, your Ladyship?” “Without a guard, Conrad.” “Pardon me, my Lady, but I distrust her. She may have designs against you.” The Countess had little acquaintance with fear. She smiled at the anxious captain and said: “Her only desire is to reach my heart, Conrad.” “God grant it may not be with a dagger,” grumbled the captain, as he made haste to obey the commands of the lady. When the Countess entered the room in which Elsa stood, her first question was an inquiry regarding her visitor’s name and station, the telling of which seemed but an indifferent introduction for the girl, who could not help noting that the Countess shrank, involuntarily from her when she heard the Outlaw mentioned. “Our house has little cause to confer favour on any kin of the Outlaw of Hundsrück,” the lady said at last.