“Wished to do, Miss Wisdom,” replied the countess, patting Els’s arm soothingly.  “We kept our eyes open, and I helped to put a stop to their proceedings.  The rabble gathered in front of your house, yelling and shrieking, and when I stepped into your bow-window there was as great an outcry as if they were trying to bring down the walls of Jericho a second time.  Some boys even flung at me everything they could find in the mire of the streets.  The most delightful articles!  There was actually a dead rat!  I can see its tail flying now!  Our village lads know how to aim better.  Before the worst came, by the advice of the equerry and our wise chaplain, whom I consulted, we had done what was necessary, and summoned the guard at the Frauenthor to our assistance.  But the soldiers were in no great haste; so when matters were going too far, I stepped into the breach myself, called down to tell them my name, and also showed my crossbow with an arrow on the string.  This had an effect.  Only a few women still continued to load me with horrible abuse.  Then the chaplain came to the window and this restored silence; but, in spite of his earnest words, not a soul stirred from the spot until the patrol arrived, dispersed the rabble, and arrested some of them.”

Els, who sat by Cordula’s side, drew her towards her and kissed her gratefully; but Eva’s eyes had filled with tears of grief at the beginning of the countess’s report of this new insult, and the hostility of so many of the townsfolk; yet she succeeded in controlling herself.  She would not weep.  She had even forced herself to gaze, without the quiver of an eyelash, at the sorrowful and horrible spectacle outside of the “Hole.”  She must cease being a weak child.  How true her dying mother’s words had been!  To be able to struggle and conquer, she must not withdraw from life and its influences, which, if she did not spare herself, promised to transform her into the resolute woman she desired to become.

She had listened with labouring breath to the speaker’s last words, and when Els embraced Cordula, she raised her little clenched hand, exclaiming with passionate emotion:  “Oh, if I had only been at home with you!  You are brave, Countess, but I, too, would not have shrunk from them.  I would voluntarily have made myself the target for their malice, and called to their faces that only miserably deluded people or shameless rascals could throw stones at my Els, who is a thousand times better than any of them!”

“Or at you, you dear, brave child,” added Cordula in an agitated tone.

From the day following the burning of the convent the countess had given up her whim of winning Heinz Schorlin.  She now knew that all her nobler feelings spoke more loudly in favour of the quiet man who had borne her out of the flames.  Sir Boemund Altrosen’s love had proved genuine, and she would reward him for it; but the heart of the pretty creature opposite to her was also filled with deep, true love, and she would do everything in her power for Eva, whom she had loved ever since her affliction had touched her tender heart.