"Are we in time, mother?" asked Ebbo, from the door of the upper
chamber, where the Adlersteins began and ended life, shaking the snow
from his mufflings. Ruddy with exertion in the sharp wind, what a
contrast he was to all within the room!
"Who is that?" said a thin, feeble voice.
"It is Ebbo. It is the Baron," said Christina. "Come in, Ebbo. She
is somewhat revived."
"Will she be able to speak to the priest?" asked Ebbo.
"Priest!" feebly screamed the old woman. "No priest for me! My lord
died unshriven, unassoilzied. Where he is, there will I be. Let a
priest approach me at his peril!"
Stony insensibility ensued; nor did she speak again, though life
lasted many hours longer. The priests did their office; for,
impenitent as the life and frantic as the words had been, the
opinions of the time deemed that their rites might yet give the
departing soul a chance, though the body was unconscious.
When all was over, snow was again falling, shifting and drifting, so
that it was impossible to leave the castle, and the two monks were
kept there for a full fortnight, during which Christmas solemnities
were observed in the chapel, for the first time since the days of
Friedmund the Good.
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