Christina would
gladly have been quit of him, but she felt bound to remonstrate, for
their mountain was absolutely impassable during a fall of snow, above
all when accompanied by wind, since the drifts concealed fearful
abysses, and the shifting masses insured destruction to the unwary
wayfarer; nay, natives themselves had perished between the hamlet and
the castle.
"Not the hardiest cragsman, not my son himself," she said, "could
venture on such a morning to guide you to--"
"Whither, gracious dame?" asked Theurdank, half smiling.
"Nay, sir, I would not utter what you would not make known."
"You know me then?"
"Surely, sir, for our noble foe, whose generous trust in our honour
must win my son's heart."
"So!" he said, with a peculiar smile, "Theurdank--Dankwart--I see!
May I ask if your son likewise smelt out the Schlangenwald?"
"Verily, Sir Count, my Ebbo is not easily deceived. He said our
guest could be but one man in all the empire."
Theurdank smiled again, saying, "Then, lady, you shudder not at a man
whose kin and yours have shed so much of one another's blood?"
"Nay, ghostly knight, I regard you as no more stained therewith than
are my sons by the deeds of their grandfather.
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