The minstrel said that he would certainly join the company, ordered wine for the occasion, and promised to pay the reckoning.  He then withdrew to seek his comrades.  At dusk he returned stealthily to the castle, and at his signal the maid appeared at a little postern and admitted him.

On the day of the Emperor’s coronation stealthy forms crept among the trees near by the castle, and concealed themselves in the thick foliage of the underbrush.  The garrison, gaily dressed, quitted the keep, the drawbridge was lowered, and the men were soon quaffing the choice wine which the stranger had ordered.

Meanwhile Blondel had appeared before the postern and had given his accustomed signal; for a time there was no response, and the minstrel was becoming impatient, when the gate was suddenly opened and the maiden appeared.

The minstrel now told the girl his reason for coming hither:  how he hoped to liberate the captive monarch.  As a reward for her connivance he promised to take her with him to England.  Then he beckoned to his friends, there was a sudden rush, and armed forms thronged the postern.  The frightened maid, dreading lest violence should overtake her uncle, shrieked loudly; but her cries were unheeded, and the English knights pressed into the courtyard.

The assailants met with little resistance, seized the keys, threw open the prison door, and liberated their King.  The castellan protested loudly, and threatened Richard with mighty words, but all to no purpose.  When the garrison returned they were powerless to render aid, for the castellan was threatened with death should his followers attack the castle.  In the end a truce was made, and the English were allowed to retire unmolested with their King.  Although urged by him, the maid refused to accompany Blondel, so, giving her a gold ring as a memento, he parted from her.

Returning again many years afterward, the minstrel once more heard the same song which the King had sung to his harp in the castle of Trifels.  Entering the inn, he recognized in the landlord the one-time shepherd-boy.  From him he learnt that the castellan had perished by an unknown hand, and that his pretty niece, having, as she thought, plumbed the depths of masculine deceit, had entered the nunnery of Eberstein at Baden.

Thann in Alsace

Thann is known to legend by two things:  a steeple and a field.  The steeple was built in a season of great drought.  Water had failed everywhere; there was only the thinnest trickle from the springs and fountains with which the people might allay their thirst.  Yet, strangely, the vineyards had yielded a wonderful harvest of luscious grapes, and the wine was so abundant that the supply of casks and vessels was insufficient for the demand.  Therefore did it happen that the mortar used for building the steeple was mixed with wine, wherefore the lime was changed to must.  And it is said that even to this day, when the vines are in blossom, a delicate fragrance steals from the old steeple and on the stones a purple dew is seen, while some declare that there is a deeper tone in the harmony of the bells.