"
"Nay, dear mother," said Ebbo, "the matters on which he is like to
speak will brook no presence save our own, and even that will be hard
enough to bear. So prop me more upright! So! And comb out these
locks somewhat smoother. Thanks, mother. Now can he see whether he
will choose Eberhard of Adlerstein for friend or foe."
By the time supper was ended, the only light in the upper room came
from the flickering flames of the fire of pine knots on the hearth.
It glanced on the pale features and dark sad eyes of the young Baron,
sad in spite of the eager look of scrutiny that he turned on the
figure that entered at the door, and approached so quickly that the
partial light only served to show the gloss of long fair hair, the
glint of a jewelled belt, and the outline of a tall, well-knit, agile
frame.
"Welcome, Herr Ritter," he said; "I am sorry we have been unable to
give you a fitter reception."
"No host could be more fully excused than you," said the stranger,
and Ebbo started at his voice. "I fear you have suffered much, and
still have much to suffer.
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