“Since you so earnestly desire to be rid of my company, Sir Heinz Schorlin,” he continued, “I will fulfil your wish.  Only just now you appeared to consider certain words uttered last night in reference to a lady—­”

“Let that pass,” interrupted Heinz with marked emphasis.

“I might expect that desire,” replied Siebenburg scornfully; “for as you are in the act of gaining the favour of Heaven by pious works, it will be agreeable to you—­”

“What?” asked the Swiss sharply.

“You will surely desire,” was the reply, “to change conduct which is an offence to honourable people, and still more to the saints above.  You who have estranged a betrothed bride from her lover and lured her to midnight interviews, no doubt suppose yourself safe from the future husband, whom the result of a duel—­as you know—­will keep from her side.  But Wolff happens to be my brother-in-law, and if I feel disposed to take his place and break a lance with you——­”

Heinz, pale as death, interrupted him, exclaiming in a tone of the deepest indignation:  “So be it, then.  We will have a tilt with lances, and then we will fight with our swords.”

Siebenburg looked at him an instant, as if puzzled by his adversary’s sharp assault, but quickly regained his composure and answered:  “Agreed!  In the joust—­[single combat in the tourney]—­with sharp weapons it will soon appear who has right on his side.”

“Right?” asked Heinz in astonishment, shrugging his shoulders scornfully.

“Yes, right,” cried the other furiously, “which you have ceased to prize.”

“So far from it,” the Swiss answered quietly, “that before we discuss the mode of combat with the herald I must ask you to recall the insults with which yesterday, in your drunkenness, you injured the honour of a virtuous maiden in the presence of other knights and gentlemen.”

“Whose protector,” laughed Seitz, “you seem to have constituted yourself, by your own choice, in her bridegroom’s place.”

“I accept the position,” replied Heinz with cool deliberation.  “Not you, nay, I will fight in Wolff Eysvogel’s stead—­and with his consent, I think.  I know him, and esteem him so highly——­”

“That you invite his plighted bride to nocturnal love dalliance, and exchange love messages with her,” interrupted the other.

This was too much for Heinz Schorlin and, with honest indignation, he cried:  “Prove it!  Or, by our Lord’s blood!—­My sword, Biberli!—­Spite of the peace proclaimed throughout the land, you shall learn, ere you open your slandering lips again——­”

Here he paused suddenly, for while Biberli withdrew to obey the command which, though it probably suited his wishes, he was slow in executing, doubtless that he might save his master from a reckless act, Siebenburg, frantic with fury, rushed to the curtain.  Ere Heinz could interfere, he jerked it back so violently that he tore it from the fastenings and forced the terrified maid, whose arm he grasped, to approach the knight with him.