“Yes, a great, genuine miracle,” Ortel went on eagerly.  “The lightning—­ I heard it from the butcher boy who brings the meat, he learned it from his master’s wife herself, and now every child in the city knows it—­the lightning struck the knight’s casque during the thundershower yesterday; it ran along his armour, flashing brightly; the horse sank dead under him without moving a limb, but he himself escaped unhurt, and the mark of a cross can be seen in the place where the lightning struck his helmet.”

“And you think this happened to the very knight who took the flowers yonder?” asked Eva anxiously.

“As certainly as I hope to have the sacrament before I die, Jungfrau Eva,” the youth protested.  “I saw him riding with that lank Biberli, Katterle’s lover, who serves him, and such noblemen are not found by the dozen.  Besides, he is one of those nearest to the Emperor Rudolph’s person.  If it isn’t he, I’ll submit to torment——­”

“Fie upon your miserable oaths!” Eva interrupted reprovingly.  “Do you know also that the tall, stately gentleman with the long grey hair——­”

“That was the Emperor Rudolph!” cried Ortel, sure he was right.  “Whoever has once seen him does not forget him.  Everything on earth belongs to him; but when the knight took our flowers so freely just now as if they were his own, I thought But there—­there—­there!  See for yourself, Jungfrau!  A heavy, unclipped yellow zecchin!”

As he spoke he took the coin in his hand, crossed himself, and added thoughtfully:  “The little silver coin, or whatever he flung in here—­ perhaps to pay for the flowers, which are not worth five shillings—­has been changed into pure gold by the saint who wrought the miracle for him.  My soul!  If many in Nuremberg paid so high for forage, the rich Eysvogel would leave the Council and go in search of wild flowers!”

Eva begged the man to leave the zecchin, promising to give him another at home and half a pound in coppers as earnest money.  “This is what I call a lucky morning!” cried Ortel.  But directly after he changed his tone, remembering Eva’s white mourning robe and the object of their expedition, and his fresh voice sounded very sympathetic as he added:  “If one could only call your lady mother back to life!  Ah, me!  I’d spend all my savings to buy for the saints as many candles as my mother has in her little shop, if that would change things.”

Whilst speaking he filled the basket with flowers, and the nun helped him.  Eva walked before them with bowed head.

Could she hope to wed the man for whom Heaven had performed such a miracle?  Was it no sin to hope and plead that he would wear their common colour, not in honour of the Queen of Heaven, but of the lowly Eva, in whom nothing was strong save the desire for good?  Was not Heinz forcing her to enter into rivalry with one the most distant comparison with whom meant defeat?  Yet, no!  Her gracious Friend above knew her and her heart.  She knew with what tender love and reverence she had looked up to her from childhood, and she now confided the love in her heart to her who had shown herself gracious a thousand times when she raised her soul to her in prayer.