“And what saint are you praying to?” replied Otho, yielding to the curiosity that filled him at sight of this image thus constantly reproduced, sometimes on stone and sometimes on canvas. “Is it St. Michael or St. George? Tell me his name, that I may pray to the same saint as you.”

  “It is neither the one nor the other “answered the girl; “it is Rudolph of Alost, and the painter was mistaken when he gave him the aureole; the palm were more appropriate to him, for he was a martyr and not a saint.”

  “But still,” Otho went on, “you pray to him as if he were seated on the right hand of God; what can you hope from him?”

  “A miracle such as he worked for our ancestor on a like occasion. But, alas! the rosary of the Countess Beatrix is voiceless to-day, and the sound of the blessed bell will not a second time awaken Rudolph from the grave.”

  “I can give you neither fear nor hope,” answered Otho, “for indeed I do not know what you mean.”

  “Are you not acquainted with the legend of our family?” asked Helena.

  “I only know what I see; yonder Knight crossing the Rhine in a boat drawn by a swan has no doubt delivered Countess Beatrix from some danger?”

  “From a danger like the one which threatens us at this moment, and that is why I pray to him. Another time I will tell you the legend,” said Helena rising as if to withdraw.

  “And why not now?” answered Otho, making a respectful sign to stop the girl. “Time and place are well chosen for a warrior’s legend and a sacred tradition.”

  “Sit there, then, and listen,” answered the girl, who was only too pleased to find any excuse for staying with Otho.

  Otho shook his head, to show that he recalled the difference in their stations, which Helena was ready to forget, and remained standing near her.

  “You know,” said the girl, “that Godfrey de Bouillon was the uncle of Princess Beatrix of Cleves, our ancestress.”

  “Yes, I know that,” answered the young man bowing.

  “But what you do not know,” continued Helena, “is that Prince Robert of Cleves, who had married the sister of the hero of Brabant, resolved to follow his brother-in-law to the Crusade, and in spite of the prayers of his daughter Beatrix, he made all arrangements to carry out his holy resolve.

  “Godfrey, pious as he was, tried at first to dissuade him from this idea; for when he had set out for the Holy Land, Robert would leave alone and without protection his only daughter, a child barely fourteen years old. But nothing served to stop the old soldier, and to all they could say to him, he answered with the motto he had already inscribed on his banner, “God wills it!”

  “Godfrey de Bouillon was to be joined by his brother-in-law as he passed by. The path of the Crusaders lay through Germany and Hungary, and this would not bring him out of his way; moreover he wished to bid farewell to his young niece Beatrix. He left his army, composed of 10,000 horsemen and 70,000 foot- soldiers under the orders of his brothers Eustache and Beaudoin, associating with them in this provisional command his friend Rudolf of Alost, and descended the Rhine from Cologne to Cleves.

  “He had not seen young Beatrix for six years. During this interval, from a child she had become a girl; everywhere her budding beauty was spoken of, which ultimately became so wonderful that to this day, when the country folk wish to speak of a woman conspicuous in this respect, they say, ‘Beautiful as the Princess Beatrix.’

  “Godfrey spent himself in efforts to persuade his brother-in-law to stay with his child. But to no purpose, the Prince had already settled everything to enable him to accompany the future Sovereign of Jerusalem. A Squire called Gerard, renowned for strength and courage and who was thoroughly trusted by his master, was chosen by him to act as guardian to the young Princess, and received for this purpose all a guardian’s rights, and the full power of a trustee.

  “Godfrey, who — it may be because he foresaw the future, was distressed at all these arrangements, gave his niece, as his one gift, the rosary I held between my hands when you came in just now. It had been brought from the Holy Land by Peter the Hermit himself; it had touched the sacred Tomb of our Lord, and had been blessed by its venerable guardian, — father of the Holy Sepulchre. Peter the Hermit had given it to Godfrey de Bouillon as a sacred talisman possessing miraculous properties, and Godfrey assured the girl that, if danger threatened her, she had only to take this rosary, to pray with it with religious and fervent heart, and then he would hear wherever he was the sound of the little bell that was fastened to it, though separated from her by mountains and seas.

  “Beatrix accepted the precious rosary whose virtues her uncle, her father and she alone knew, and asked the Prince’s permission to found a chapel which should worthily enclose in its marble shrine such a priceless jewel. I need hardly tell you this request was granted.

  “The Crusaders departed. An inscription that you may see on the gate of the castle, and which is said to have been carved by the hand of Godfrey himself, shows this was on the 3rd of September, 1096. Peacefully and unopposed they crossed Germany and Hungary, reached the frontiers of the Greek Empire, and after staying awhile at Constantinople, they entered Bithynia. They reached Nicea, and it was impossible to mistake their way, for the road was marked out for them by the bones of the two armies that had preceded them, the one led by Peter the Hermit, the other by Walter the Penniless.

  “They arrived before Nicea. You know the details of the siege. At the third assault Prince Robert of Cleves was killed. The intelligence took six months to travel home and put the young Princess Beatrix into mourning weeds. The army pursued its way, marching ever southwards, midst such weariness and suffering that at the sight of each town they came to the Crusaders asked if this were not at last the city of Jerusalem, the end of their journey. Finally the heat became so intense, that the nobles’ dogs succumbed on the leash and falcons died on the wrist. In one single halt, five hundred men expired from the terrible thirst they endured and could not quench. God keep their souls!

  “During this long and painful march, thoughts of the West, fresher and dearer than ever, came to the unhappy Crusaders. Such were wakened in Godfrey by the death of his brother-in-law, Robert of Cleves. And few days went by without the Christian General speaking to his young friend, Rudolf of Alost, of his charming niece Beatrix. Confident she would not dispose of her hand without his consent, he had hopes, if the sacred enterprise did not delay them too long in Palestine, of marrying Rudolph to Beatrix. And he had spoken of her to the young warrior so often and so affectionately, that from the picture he had drawn of her Robert himself had fallen in love, and when by chance a day passed without Godfrey speaking of Beatrix to Rudolph, it was Rudolph who spoke of her to Godfrey.

  “Now they were before Antioch. After a siege of six’ months, the town was taken; but after marches under a fiery sun, thirst in the desert, followed another scourge no less terrible — the scourge of famine. It was impossible to stay longer in this town they had longed for as a harbour of refuge. Jerusalem had become not only a goal, but a vital necessity. The Crusaders left Antioch, chanting the psalm, “Let the Lord arise and let His enemies be scattered,” and marched on co Jerusalem; which city, on reaching the heights of Emmaus, they at last beheld. They were but 40,000 out of the 900,000 who had started.

  “Next day the siege began. Three assaults followed each other without result; the final one lasted three days, when on Friday, July 15th, 1099 — the same day and hour when Jesus Christ was crucified — two men stood on the top of the ramparts of Jerusalem. But of these one fell, and only one was left alive. This one was Godfrey de Bouillon, and the one who fell was Rudolph of Alost, the betrothed of Beatrix. The golden dream of the Conqueror had vanished.

  “Godfrey de Bouillon was elected king, but still remained as soldier. On the return of an expedition against the Sultan of Damascus, the Emir of Csesarea came to him and presented him with the fruits of Palestine.

  “Godfrey took a cedar-apple and ate it. Four days after, July 18th, 1100, he died, after reigning eleven months, and being absent from his country four years.

  “He asked that his tomb might be reared beside that of his young friend Rudolph of Alost, and his last wishes were obeyed.

  CHAPTER VIII.

  “THESE tidings one after the other were noised in the West, and of all the echoes they awoke the saddest was that in the lamenting heart of Beatrix; she heard in turns of the death of her father, the Prince of Cleves, then of Rudolph of Alost, her betrothed, and of Godfrey de Bouillon, her uncle. The least afflicting of these three was the death of Rudolph, whom she had never known; but the other two deaths made her twice an orphan; for in losing Godfrey de Bouillon she felt she had lost a second father.

  “A new trouble was added to these; during the five years that had elapsed between his departure for the Crusade and Godfrey’s death, Beatrix had grown in beauty. She was now a graceful girl of nineteen, and she had discovered that the Squire to whose care she had been entrusted, was not impervious to the feelings she inspired in all who came near her. As long as he had remained her guardian, Gerard had subdued his love. But as soon as he saw Beatrix in the position of an orphan and without defence, he was sufficiently emboldened to declare that he loved her. Beatrix received this avowal as a Prince’s daughter should; but Gerard had arranged his plans before throwing off his mask. He replied to the girl that he would give her a year and a day for her mourning, but that time once passed, she must prepare to receive him as her husband.

  “A total transformation had taken place; the servant dictated as though master. Beatrix was weak, alone, without protection; no help could come to her from men, she turned to God, and God sent her, if not hope, at least resignation. And Gerard the same day shut the gates of the Castle, placed a double guard at each, fearing Beatrix would attempt to escape.

  “You remember Beatrix had had this chapel built to enshrine the miraculous rosary her uncle had given her. Had Godfrey still been alive, she would have felt no fear; for her heart was full of faith, and he had told her that wherever he was, though divided from her by mountains and seas, he would hear the sound of the holy bell and come to her assistance. But Godfrey was dead, and at each Pater the bell might ring in vain, there was no more hope that this sound would bring her a defender. The days passed, the months, and the year; Gerard had never for a moment slackened his watchfulness, so that no one knew the extremity to which Beatrix was driven. The flower of the nobility at this period, too, was in the East and there were scarce two or three Knights left on the borders of the Rhine who would have dared, so well known was Gerard’s strength and courage, to undertake the defence of the beautiful prisoner.

  “The last day had dawned. Beatrix according to her custom had just finished her prayers; the sun shone pure and dazzling, as if his celestial light illumined a world all happy. The girl went and sat on her balcony, and from there her eyes were turned naturally to the spot by the water-side where she had seen her father and her uncle disappear for the last time. Presently at this same place, generally unfrequented, she thought she saw a speck moving. It was still too far away to make out the form; but from the moment she first caught sight of it, strange to say, it seemed to her that this speck was moving on her account, and with that superstition the disconsolate alone have, she set all her hopes, without knowing what hope could still remain to her, on this unknown speck, which as it descended the Rhine began to take shape and substance. The eyes of Beatrix were fixed on it with such intensity, that overstraining rather than sorrow made her shed tears. But through these tears she began to distinguish a boat. Shortly after she saw that this boat was drawn by a swan, and carried a Knight who stood upright in the prow, his face turned towards her, whilst in the stern neighed a horse ready caparisoned for battle. As the boat drew nearer, details were more plainly to be seen; the swan was harnessed with golden chains, the Knight was armed from head to foot except for his helmet and shield, which were laid beside him; and his appearance was that of a handsome young man of from twenty-five to twenty-eight, whose complexion was tanned by an Eastern sun, but whose fair and waving hair revealed a Northern origin.

  “So rapt was Beatrix in the vision that she had not noticed the ramparts filling with soldiers, attracted as she was by this unusual sight. Now the interest deepened as there could be no mistake the boat was coming straight to the Castle. For no sooner was it arrived than the swan came ashore, the Knight donned his helmet, thrust his shield on his left arm, jumped on the bank, drew his horse after him, leapt into the saddle, and making a sign to the obedient bird, he advanced towards the Castle, while the boat ascending the stream returned the way it had come.

  “Having ridden to within fifty paces of the Great Gate, the Knight took an ivory horn which he carried on a baldric, and bringing it to his lips, he blew three powerful and prolonged blasts, as if to demand silence. Then in a loud voice, he cried, “‘I, soldier of Heaven, and noble of the earth, to thee, Gerard, Keeper of this Castle. We do command thee in the name of divine and human law to renounce thy pretensions to the hand of the Princess Beatrix — whom thou dost hold prisoner in sore despite of her birth and rank, — and instantly to quit this Castle, which thou didst enter as a servant, but hast dared to rule as a master. In default whereof we do challenge thee to mortal combat, by lance and by sword, by axe and by dagger, for the disloyal traitor that thou art; and this we will prove by the grace of God and of our Lady of Mount Carmel; in token whereof here is our gauntlet.’

  “Then the Knight drew off his glove which he flung on the ground, and everyone saw sparkling on one of his fingers the diamond you must have noticed on my father’s hand, and which is so beautiful that he values it at half a county.

  “Gerard was brave; so for answer the Great Gate was opened. A page went out to pick up the glove, and behind the page came the master of the Castle, clad in his armour and riding his battle- horse.

  “Not a word passed between the two adversaries. The unknown Knight lowered the visor of his helmet, Gerard did the same. The champions took on each side the space of ground they thought necessary, couched their lances, and charged one another. Gerard, as I have told you, was known to be one of the strongest and bravest men in Germany. He had a cuirasse forged by the best armourer of Cologne. The steel of his lance had been tempered in the blood of a bull worried to death by dogs, just when the blood was still boiling from the animal’s dying agony, — and yet his lance shivered like glass as it touched the Knight’s shield, while the Knight’s lance pierced with one stroke the buckler, cuirasse, and heart of his adversary.

  “Gerard fell, without a word, without a moment for repentance, as if blasted by lightning. The Knight turned towards Beatrix; she was on her knees thanking God.

  “The combat had been so short, and the ensuing stupefaction so great, that Gerard’s men-at-arms on seeing their master fall had not even remembered to shut the Castle Gate. The Knight without let or hindrance therefore entered the first court, where he dismounted, fastened his horse’s bridle to an iron hook, and advanced to the main staircase. As he set foot on the lowest step, Beatrix appeared on the highest, coming to meet and greet her deliverer.

  “‘This Castle is yours, Knight,’ she said to him, ‘for you have conquered it. Consider it therefore yours. The longer you will stay, the greater will be my gratitude.’

  “‘Lady,’ answered the’ Knight, “tis not I, but God you must thank; for ‘tis God has sent me to your help. As to this Castle, it has been the house of your fathers for ten centuries, and I hope it may be that of their descendants for another ten.’

  “Beatrix blushed, for she was the last of her family. The Knight accepted the offered hospitality; he was young, he was handsome, Beatrix was alone and mistress of her heart. After three months the two young people realised that between them, on the one side there was more than friendship, and on the other more than gratitude. The Knight spoke of love, and as he was manifestly of high birth, though no one knew his lands or county, Beatrix who was sufficiently rich for them both, and happy to do something for him who had done so much for her, offered him with her hand the principality he had protected with such courage, and so unexpectedly to boot. The Knight fell at the feet of Beatrix, who would have raised him.

  “‘Forgive me, lady,’ said the Knight, ‘for craving your indulgence; I will stay as I am till I win it.’

  “‘Speak,’ replied Beatrix, ‘I am listening to you, ready beforehand to obey you, as if you were already my master and my lord.’

  “‘Alas,’ said the Knight, ‘it will sure seem strange to you that receiving so great happiness from you, I can only accept it on one condition.’

  “‘It is granted,’ answered Beatrix. ‘Now what is it?’

  “It is that you shall never ask me either my name or whence I come, nor how I learnt the danger that hung over you. For if you asked me, I love you so much I could not have the courage to refuse you, and once I had told you, I could no longer stay near you, and we should be for ever separated. Such is the law imposed on me by the power which guided me across mountains, plains and seas through all the long journey I made to come to your deliverance.’

  “‘What matters your name? What matters it from whence you come? What matters it who told you I was in peril? I abandon the past for the future. Your name is the Knight of the Swan. You come from a blessed land, and ‘tis God who sent you. What more do I want to know? Here is my hand.’

  “Eagerly the Knight kissed it, and a month after the Chaplain united them in the same Oratory where Beatrix in the fear of another marriage had during a year and a day prayed and wept so much. Heaven blessed their union. In three years Beatrix presented the Knight with three sons who were called Robert, Godfrey and Rudolph. Another three years passed in most perfect concord, and a happiness which seemed to belong to another world.