At length there came a day when the noblesse of the Rhine assembled at Heidelberg to celebrate the nuptials of Louis and Margaret.  For a space the rejoicings went forward merrily, but, as Louis scanned the faces of his guests, he was surprised to find that Frederick was absent.  Why was this? he mused; and going in search he soon found his brother in one of the smaller rooms of the castle, attended by Rafaello.  Now the latter, who was developing a rare gift for sculpture, had lately made a statue to decorate this room; and on Louis entering Frederick was gazing with passionate fondness at this new work of art.  Louis was straightway called upon to observe its loveliness, and even as Frederick was descanting thus, a number of the guests who had remarked their host’s temporary absence trooped into the room, among them being Leonora of Luzenstein.  She was in ill-temper, for Frederick had not so much as troubled to salute her on her arrival; and now, finding him deep in admiration of a statue, its subject a beautiful girl, her rancour deepened apace.  But who was the girl? she wondered; and as divers other guests were also inquisitive on this head, it soon transpired that Rafaello’s model had been Eugenia.  Leonora knew that this girl had been Frederick’s playmate in youth, so her wrath turned to fierce malice, for she suspected that in Eugenia she had a rival who might wreck all hopes of the Luzensteins becoming united to the Palatine house.

But Frederick regarded Eugenia only as a sister.  He knew that she and the sculptor who had hewn her likeness loved one another, and he longed to see their union brought about, his genuine affection for the young Italian being the greater on account of Rafaello’s blossoming talents as an artist.  Leonora, however, knew nothing of the real situation; she fancied she had been insulted, and demanding of her father that he should cease all negotiations regarding Frederick’s suggested engagement to her, she proceeded to take stronger measures.  Readers of Sir Walter Scott’s Anne of Geierstein will recall the Vehmgericht, that ’Secret Tribunal’ whose deeds were notorious in medieval Germany, and it chanced that the Luzensteins were in touch with this body.  Its minions were called upon to wreak vengeance on the younger Palatine prince.  On several occasions his life was attempted, and once he would certainly have been killed had not Rafaello succoured him in the hour of need.

Meanwhile a son was born to Louis, and in celebration of the event a tourney was held at Heidelberg, competitors coming from far and near, all of them eager to win the golden sword which was promised to the man who should prove champion.  One after another they rode into the lists, Frederick being among the number; and as each presented himself his name was called aloud by the herald.  At length there came one of whom this functionary cried, “This is a nameless knight who bears a plain shield”; and at these words a murmur of disapproval rose from the crowd,