The astonished knights, completely sobered by the tragic occurrence, could not but admire the courage of the lad who thus boldly championed his father, and with one voice they declared that Sir Oswald was a true knight and had done justly.

So the blind knight, once more free, returned to his castle of Fuerstenberg, compensated in part for the loss of his sight by the loving devotion of his son.

Rheinstein and Reichenstein

Centuries ago the castles of Rheinstein and Reichenstein frowned at each other from neighbouring eminences.  But far from being hostile, they were the residences of two lovers.  Kuno of Reichenstein loved the fair Gerda of Rheinstein with a consuming passion, and, as is so common with lovers in all ages, doubted whether his love were returned.  In his devotion for the maiden he showered on her many gifts, and although his purse was light and he was master of only a single tower, he did not spare his gold if only he could make her happy and gain from her one look of approval.

On one occasion he presented to her a beauteous horse of the Limousin strain, bred under the shadow of his own castle.  Deep-chested, with arched neck and eye of fire, the noble steed aroused the liveliest interest in the breast of Gerda, and she was eloquent in her thanks to the giver until, observing his ardent glances, her cheeks suffused with blushes.  Taking her soft hand between his sunburnt palms, Kuno poured into her ear the story of his love.

“Gerda,” he whispered, “I am a poor man.  I have nothing but my sword, my ruined tower yonder, and honour.  But they are yours.  Will you take them with my heart?”

She lifted her blue eyes to his, full of truth and trust.  “I will be yours,” she murmured; “yours and none other’s till death.”

Young Kuno left Rheinstein that afternoon, his heart beating high with hope and happiness.  The blood coursing through his veins at a gallop made him spur his charger to a like pace.  But though he rode fast his brain was as busy as his hand and his heart.  He must, in conformity with Rhenish custom, send as an embassy to Gerda’s father one of his most distinguished relations.  To whom was he to turn?  There was no one but old Kurt, his wealthy uncle, whom he could send as an emissary, and although the old man had an unsavoury reputation, he decided to confide the mission to him.  Kurt undertook the task in no kindly spirit, for he disliked Kuno because of his virtuous life and the circumstance that he was his heir, whom he felt was waiting to step into his shoes.  However, he waited next day upon Gerda’s father, the Lord of Rheinstein, and was received with all the dignity suitable to his rank and age.  But when his glance rested upon the fair and innocent Gerda, such a fierce desire to make her his arose in his withered breast that when she had withdrawn he demanded her hand for himself.  To her father he drew an alluring picture of his rank, his possessions, his castles, his gold, until the old man, with whom avarice was a passion, gave a hearty consent to his suit, and dismissed him with the assurance that Gerda would be his within the week.