Just at that moment the blast of the horn summoning the Emperor’s train to his side echoed through the forest.

“The Emperor!” cried Heinz; then bending towards the flowers he seized a few forget-me-nots, and, whilst gazing tenderly at them and Eva, murmured in a low tone, as if grief choked his utterance:  “I know you will give them to me, for they wear the colour of the Queen of Heaven, which is also yours, and will be mine till my heart and eyes fail me.”

Eva granted his request with a whispered “Keep them”; but he pressed his hand to his brow and, as if torn by contending emotions, hastily added:  “Yes, it is that of the Holy Virgin.  They say that Heaven has summoned me by a miracle to serve only her and the highest, and it often seems to me that they are right.  But what will be the result of the conflicting powers which since that flash of lightning have drawn one usually so prompt in decision as I, now here, now there?  Your blue, Eva, the hue of these flowers, will remain mine whether I wear it in honour of the Blessed Virgin, or—­if the world does not release me—­in yours.  She or you!  You, too, Eva, I know, stand hesitating at the crossing of two paths—­which is the right one?  We will pray Heaven to show it to you and to me.”

As he spoke he swung himself swiftly into the saddle and, obeying the summons, dashed after his imperial master.

Eva gazed silently at the spot where he had vanished behind a group of pine trees; but Ortel, who had gathered a few early strawberries for her, soon roused her from her waking dream by exclaiming, as he clapped his big hands:  “I’ll be hanged, Jungfrau Eva, if the knight who spoke to you isn’t the Swiss to whom the great miracle happened yesterday!”

“The miracle?” she asked eagerly, for Els had intentionally concealed what she heard, and this evidently had something to do with the “wonderful summons” of which Heinz had spoken without being understood.

“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——­”