Wolff had left orders at home to have his horse saddled.  He had intended only to wave a greeting to his Els and then ride to Neumarkt, or, if necessary, as far as Ingolstadt, to meet the wains.

A word of farewell to the new acquaintance, who was probably destined to be his brother-in, law, and then—­But just at that moment Heinz approached, and in reply to Wolff’s low question “And your lady’s colour?” he answered joyously, pointing to the breast of his doublet:  “I am carrying the messenger which promises to inform me, here on my heart.  In the darkness it was silent; but the bright moonlight yonder will loose its tongue, unless the characters here are too unlike those of the prayer-book.”

Drawing out Eva’s little roll as he spoke, he approached a brightly lighted spot, pointed to the ribbon which fastened it, and exclaimed:  “Doubtless she used her own colour to tie it.  Blue, the pure, exquisite blue of her eyes!  I thought so Forget-me-not blue!  The most beautiful of colours.  You must pardon my impatience!”

He was about to begin to read the lines; but Wolff stopped him by pointing to the Ortlieb residence and to two drunken soldiers who came out of the tavern “For Thirsty Troopers,” and walked, singing and staggering, up the opposite side of the street.  Then, extending his hand to Heinz in farewell, he asked in a low tone, pointing to Biberli’s figure just emerging from the shade, who was the messenger of love who served him so admirably.

“My shadow,” replied the knight.  “I loosed him from my heels and bade him stand there.  But no offence, Herr Wolff Eysvogel; you’ll make the queer fellow’s acquaintance if, like myself, it would be agreeable to you to meet often, not only on iron chains, but on friendly terms with each other.”

“Nothing would please me more,” replied the other.  “But how in the world could it happen that this well-guarded fortress surrendered to you after so short a resistance?”

“Heinz Schorlin rides swiftly,” he interrupted; but Wolff exclaimed: 

“A swift ride awaits me, too, though of a different kind.  When I return, I shall expect you to tell me how you won our ‘little saint,’ my sister-in-law Eva.  The two beautiful Ortlieb ‘Es’ are one in the eyes of the townsfolk, so we also will be often named in the same breath, and shall do well to feel brotherly regard for each other.  There shall be no fault on my part.  Farewell, till we meet again, an’ it please God in and not outside of our ladies’ dwelling.”

While speaking he clasped the knight’s hand with so firm a grasp that it seemed as if he wished to force him to feel its pressure a long time, and hastened through the Frauenthor.

Heinz Schorlin gazed thoughtfully after him a short time, then beckoned to Biberli and, though the interval required for him to reach his master’s side was very brief, it was sufficient for the bold young lover, tortured by his ardent longing, to form another idea.