“And let our tears and our hearts mingle,” said Arnold, rising, and embracing Theobald, “to bless this great God who sees us and who has brought me to you!”

“To me!” exclaimed Theobald, looking at Arnold, and coloring.  “Ah, that bandage! that wound!”—­and he began again to weep.

“But for this wound,” replied Arnold, with energy, “would you be here, and would Theobald ever have been my friend?”

“Yes, thy friend, noble and charitable soul!” repeated Theobald.  “You said to me, Arnold, when I advanced to kill you, ’Why would you shed my blood and take my life?’ To-day, here is my blood and my life!  It belongs to you.  I call God, who now hears me, to witness.”

“O, how wonderful are his ways!” said Arnold.  “What an admirable Providence has united us—­you, the Iron-Hearted, and me, the Lion!” added he, smiling.  “Did the Baron of Rothenwald think, three days since, that he would be lying in the bed of the Earl of Winkelthal, and peacefully smiling at the words of a Calixtan?”

Theobald reddened:  this last word had surprised and disturbed him; and it was only by controlling the secret indignation of his soul, that he said, “I did not know that peace and charity entered these lofty towers and innumerable battlements.  I had been told, Arnold—­and I believed it—­that impiety alone made its dwelling here.”

“No, Theobald—­it is not impiety; it is the word of the Lord, and the love of Jesus, we trust, which directs and consoles our hearts.”

Theobald.  Yours! yes:  I believe it; for I see it hourly.  But these Taborites, Arnold—­this ferocious and cruel Ziska—­do they know the name of Jesus—­they who persecute the Holy Church?

Arnold.  You have seen them only at a distance, Theobald; and you do not even suspect that it was for the cause of Jesus and for his holy gospel that John Huss ended his days at the stake.

Theobald, (surprised.) Were not this Huss and his friend Jerome infidels?

Arnold.  Ah, Theobald! was that John Huss an infidel, who, when the sentence that condemned him to be burned was read to him, immediately threw himself on his knees, exclaiming, “O, Lord Jesus, pardon my enemies!  Pardon them, for the love of thy great mercy and goodness?”

Theobald, (affected.) Arnold! did John Huss, indeed, speak thus?

Arnold.  He did!  John Huss knew Jesus, and, like Jesus, prayed for his murderers.  No, Theobald; he who loves—­who loves unto death, and who can pray for his executioners—­is not an infidel.

“O, Hildegarde!  Hildegarde!” exclaimed Theobald, groaning; “what hast thou done, and what have I done!  Poor prisoners!  What injustice!”

Arnold.  Your heart is oppressed, Theobald; some sorrowful remembrance distresses you.

The chevalier was about to reply, when a noise was heard at the door, which was opened by Gottfried, holding Erard by the hand.