Cordula plainly perceived how unwillingly he listened.  Nay, as Heinz more and more distinctly, at last even offensively, showed her how little he desired her society, it only increased the animation of her speech, which seemed to her not to fail wholly in the influence she desired to exert in Eva’s favour; therefore she remained at his side longer than she had at first intended.  She did not even turn back when they met the young Duchess Agnes, who with her train was returning to the city from a ride.

The Bohemian princess had known that Heinz would ride through the Spitalthor at this hour to confront his foe, and had intended that the meeting with her should seem like a good omen.  The thought of wishing him success on his journey had been a pleasant one.  True, Cordula’s presence did not prevent this, but it disturbed her, and she was vexed to find the countess again at Heinz Schorlin’s side.

She showed her displeasure so plainly that her Italian singing mistress, the elderly spinster Caterina de Celano, took sides with her, and scornfully asked the countess whether she had brought her curling irons with her.

But she bit her lips at Cordula’s swift retort “O no!  Malice meets us on every road, but in Germany we do not pull one another’s hair on the highway over every venomous or foolish word.”

She turned her back on her as she spoke until the duchess had taken leave of Heinz, and then rode on with him; but as soon as a portion of the road intervened between her and the countess the young Bohemian exclaimed:  “We must certainly try to save Sir Heinz from this disagreeable shrew!”

“And the saints will aid the good work,” the Italian protested, “for they themselves have a better right to the charming knight.  How grave he looked!  Take care, your Highness, he is following, as my nimble cousin Frangipani did a short time ago, in the footsteps of the Saint of Assisi.”

“But he must not, shall not, go into the monastery!” cried the young duchess, with childish refractoriness.  “The Emperor is opposed to it, and he, too, does not like the von Montfort’s boisterous manner.  We will see whether I cannot accomplish something, Caterina.”

Here she stopped.  They had again reached the village of Rottenpach, and in front of the newly built little church stood its pastor, with the dignitaries of the parish, and the children were scattering flowers in the path.  She checked her Arabian, dismounted, and graciously inspected the new house of God, the pride of the congregation.

On the way home, just beyond the village, her horse again shied.  The animal had been startled by an old Minorite monk who sat under a crab apple tree.  It was Father Benedictus, who had set out early to anticipate Heinz and surprise him in his night quarters by his presence.  But he had overestimated his strength, and advanced so slowly that Heinz and his troopers, from whom he had concealed himself behind a dusty hawthorn bush, had not seen him.  From Schweinau the walk had become difficult, especially as it was contrary to the teaching of the saint to use a staff.  Many a compassionate peasant, many a miller’s lad and Carter, had offered him a seat on the back of his nag or in his waggon but, without accepting their friendly offers, he had plodded on with his bare feet.