To him he must have
written."
"The Kaisar!" said Sir Eberhard. "Nay, the poor fellows I left in
Turkey ever said he was too close of fist for them to have hope from
him."
"Oh! that was old Kaisar Friedrich. This is our own gallant
Maximilian--a knight as true and brave as ever was paladin," said
Christina; "and most truly loving and prizing our Ebbo."
"And yet I wish--I wish," said Ebbo, "that he had let me win my
father's liberty for myself."
"Yea, well," said his father, "there spoke the Adlerstein. We never
were wont to be beholden to king or kaisar."
"Nay," say Ebbo, after a moment's recollection, colouring as he
spoke; "it is true that I deserved it not. Nay, Sir Father, it is
well. You owe your freedom in very truth to the son you have not
known. It was he who treasured up the thought of the captive German
described by the merchant, and even dreamt of it, while never
doubting of your death; it was he who caught up Schlangenwald's first
hint that you lived, while I, in my pride, passed it by as merely
meant to perplex me; it was he who had formed an absolute purpose of
obtaining some certainty; and at last, when my impetuosity had
brought on the fatal battle, it was he who bought with his own life
the avowal of your captivity.
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