“Katterle of Sarnen,” she answered, weeping.  “And whom do you serve?” the knight demanded.

“The Ortlieb sisters, Jungfrau Els and Jungfrau Eva,” was the reply.

“The beautiful Es, as they are called here, holy Brother,” said Siebenburg with a malicious laugh, “whose maid I recognise in this girl.  If she did not come hither to mend the linen of her mistress’s friend—­”

But here Biberli, who on his return to the anteroom had been terrified by the sight of his sweetheart, interrupted the knight by turning to Heinz with the exclamation:  “Forgive me, my lord.  Surely you know that she is my betrothed bride.  She came just now—­scarcely a dozen Paternosters ago-to talk with me about the marriage.”

Katterle had listened in surprise to the bold words of her true and steadfast lover, yet she was not ill pleased, for he had never before spoken of their marriage voluntarily.  At the same time she felt the obligation of aiding him and nodded assent, while Siebenburg rudely interrupted the servant by calling to the monk:  “Lies and deception, pious Brother.  Black must be whitened here.  She stole, muffled, to her mistress’s gallant, to bring a message from the older beautiful E, with whom this godly knight was surprised last night.”

Again the passionate outbreak of his foe restored the Swiss to composure.  With a calmness which seemed to the servant incomprehensible, though it filled him with delight, he turned to the monk, saying earnestly and simply:  “Appearances may be against me, Pater Benedictus.  I will tell you all the circumstances at once.  How this maid came here will be explained later.  As for the maiden whom this man calls the older beautiful E, never—­I swear it by our saint—­have I sought her love or received from her the smallest token of her favour.”

Then turning to Siebenburg he continued, still calmly, but with menacing sternness:  “If I judge you aright, you will now go from one to another telling whom you found here, in order to injure the fair fame of the maiden whom your wife’s valiant brother chose for his bride, and to place my name with hers in the pillory.”

“Where Els Ortlieb belongs rather than in the honourable home of a Nuremberg patrician,” retorted Siebenburg furiously.  “If she became too base for my brother-in-law, the fault is yours.  I shall certainly take care that he learns the truth and knows where, and at what an hour, his betrothed bride met foreign heartbreakers.  To open the eyes of others concerning her will also be a pleasant duty.”

Heinz sprang towards Biberli to snatch the sword from his hand, but he held it firmly, seeking his master’s eyes with a look of warning entreaty; but his faithful solicitude would have been futile had not the monk lent his aid.  The old man’s whispered exhortation to his young friend to spare the imperial master, to whom he was so deeply indebted, a fresh sorrow, restored to the infuriated young knight his power of self-control.  Pushing the thick locks back from his brow with a hasty movement, he answered in a tone of the most intense contempt: