When he again looked after the muffled figure she was hurrying up the cloth-maker’s stairs.

It was Katterle herself.

At the first landing she had glanced back, and in doing so pushed the kerchief aside.  What could she want with the Swiss?  It could scarcely be anything except to bring him a message from one of her mistresses, doubtless Els.

So he had seen aright, and acted wisely not to believe the countess.

Poor Wolff!  Deceived even when a betrothed lover!  He did not exactly wish him happiness even now, and yet he pitied him.

Seitz could now stand before Heinz Schorlin with the utmost confidence.  The Swiss must know how matters stood between the older E and him self, though his knightly duty constrained him to deny it to others.  Siebenburg’s self-reproaches had been vain.  He had suspected no innocent girl—­only called a faithless betrothed bride by the fitting name.

The matter concerning his estate of Tannenreuth was worse.  It had been gambled away, and therefore forfeited.  He had already given it up in imagination; it was only necessary to have the transfer made by the notary.  The Swiss should learn how a true knight satisfies even the heaviest losses at the gaming table.  He would not spare Heinz Schorlin.  He meant to reproach the unprincipled fellow who by base arts had alienated the betrothed bride of an honest man—­for that Wolff certainly was—­when adverse circumstances prevented his watching the faithless woman himself.  Twisting the ends of his mustache with two rapid motions, he knocked at the young knight’s door.

CHAPTER XVII.

Twice, three times, Siebenburg rapped, but in vain.  Yet the Swiss was there.  His armour-bearer had told Seitz so downstairs, and he heard his voice within.  At last he struck the door so heavily with the handle of his dagger that the whole house echoed with the sound.  This succeeded; the door opened, and Biberli’s narrow head appeared.  He looked at the visitor in astonishment.

“Tell your master,” said the latter imperiously, recognising Heinz Schorlin’s servant, “that if he closes his lodgings against dunning tradesfolk—­”

“By your knock, my lord,” Biberli interrupted, we really thought the sword cutler had come with hammer and anvil.  My master, however, need have no fear of creditors; for though you may not yet know it, Sir Knight, there are generous noblemen in Nuremberg during the Reichstag who throw away castles and lands in his favour at the gaming table.”

“And hurl their fists even more swiftly into the faces of insolent varlets!” cried Siebenburg, raising his right hand threateningly.  “Now take me to your master at once!”

“Or, at any rate, within his four walls,” replied the servitor, preceding Seitz into the small anteroom from which he had come.  “As to the ’at once,’ that rests with the saints, for you must know——­”