As soon as the hazel-bushes and pine trees, which had concealed the noble pair, permitted a view of them, Eva recognised in the gentleman the Emperor Rudolph, and in his companion Duchess Agnes of Austria, his young daughter-in-law, whom she had not forgotten since the dance at the Town Hall.  Behind them came several mailed knights, with the emblems of the deepest mourning on their garments and helmets, and among those nearest to the Emperor Eva perceived—­her heart almost stood still—­the person whom she had least expected to meet here—­Heinz Schorlin.

Whilst she was gathering the flowers for her mother’s coffin his image had almost vanished from her mind.  Now he appeared before her in person, and the sight moved her so deeply that Sister Perpetua, who saw her turn pale and cling to the young pine by her side, attributed her altered expression to fear of robber knights, and whispered, “Don’t be troubled, child; it is only the Emperor.”

Neither the first horsemen-guards whom the magistrate, Berthold Pfinzing, Eva’s uncle, had assigned to the sovereign without his knowledge, to protect him from unpleasant encounters during his early morning ride—­nor the Emperor and his companions could have seen Eva whilst they were passing the chapel; but scarcely had they reached it when the dog Wasser, which had escaped from Ortel’s grasp, burst through the hazel copse and, barking furiously, dashed towards the duchess’s horse.

The spirited animal leaped aside, but a few seconds later Heinz Schorlin had swung himself from the saddle and dealt the dog so vigorous a kick that it retreated howling into the thicket.  Meanwhile he had watched every movement of the bay, and at the right instant his strong hand had grasped its nostrils and forced it to stand.

“Always alert and on the spot at the right time!” cried the Emperor, then added mournfully, “So was our Hartmann, too.”

The duchess bent her head in assent, but the grieving father pointed to Heinz, and added:  “The boy owed his blithe vigour partly to the healthful Swiss blood with which he was born, but yonder knight, during the decisive years of life, set him the example.  Will you dismount, child, and let Schorlin quiet the bay?”

“Oh, no,” replied the duchess, “I understand the animal.  You have not yet broken the wonderful son of the desert of shying, as you promised.  It was not the barking cur, but yonder basket that has dropped from the skies, which frightened him.”

She pointed, as she spoke, to the grass near the chapel where, beside Eva’s flowers, stood the light willow basket which was to receive them.

“Possibly, noble lady,” replied Heinz, patting the glossy neck of the Arabian, a gift to the Emperor Rudolph from the Egyptian Mameluke Sultan Kalaun.  “But perhaps the clever creature merely wished to force his royal rider to linger here.  Graciously look over yonder, Your Highness; does it not seem as if the wood fairy herself had laid by the roadside for your illustrious Majesty the fairest flowers that bloom in field and forest, mere and moss?”