The sense, the consciousness of Eckbert had departed; it was a riddle which he could not solve, whether he was dreaming now, or had before dreamed of a wife and friend. The marvellous was mingled with the common: the world around him seemed enchanted, and he himself was incapable of thought or recollection. A crooked, bent old woman, crawled coughing up the hill with a crutch. "Art thou bringing me my bird, my pearls, my dog?" cried she to him. "See how injustice punishes itself! No one but I was Walther, was Hugo." "God of Heaven!" said Eckbert, muttering to himself; "in what frightful solitude have I passed my life?" "And Bertha was thy sister." Eckbert sank to the ground. "Why did she leave me deceitfully? All would have been fair and well; her time of trial was already finished. She was the daughter of a knight, who had her nursed in a shepherd's house; the daughter of thy father." "Why have I always had a forecast of this dreadful thought?" cried Eckbert. "Because in early youth thy father told thee: he could not keep this daughter by him for his second wife, her stepmother." Eckbert lay distracted and dying on the ground. Faint and bewildered, he heard the old woman speaking, the dog barking, the bird repeating its song. THE TRUSTY ECKART. Brave Burgundy no longer Could fight for fatherland; The foe they were the stronger, Upon the bloody sand. He said: "The foe prevaileth, My friends and followers fly, My striving naught availeth, My spirits sink and die. No more can I exert me, Or sword and lance can wield; O, why did he desert me, Eckart, our trusty shield! In fight he used to guide me, In danger was my stay; Alas, he's not beside me, But stays at home today! The crowds are gathering faster, Took captive shall I be? I may not run like dastard, I'll die like soldier free." Thus Burgundy so bitter, Has at his breast his sword; When, see, breaks-in the Ritter Eckart, to save his lord! With cap and armour glancing, Bold on the foe he rides, His troop behind him prancing, And his two sons besides. Burgundy sees their token, And cries: "Now, God be praised! Not yet we're beat or broken, Since Eckart's flag is raised." Then like a true knight, Eckart Dash'd gaily through the foe: But with his red blood flecker'd, His little son lay low. And when the fight was ended, Then Burgundy he speaks: "Thou hast me well befriended, Yet so as wets my cheeks. The foe is smote and flying; Thou'st saved my land and life; But here thy boy is lying, Returns not from the strife." Then Eckart wept almost, The tear stood in his eye; He clasp'd the son he'd lost, Close to his breast the boy.