The moon looked after him doubtfully.  In former days the narrow-shouldered fellow had been seen near the Ortlieb house often enough, and his movements had awakened Luna’s curiosity; for he had been engaged in amorous adventure even when work was still going on at the recently completed convent of St. Clare—­an institution endowed by the Ebner brothers, to which Herr Ernst Ortlieb added a considerable sum.  At that time—­about three years before—­the bold fellow had gone there to keep tryst evening after evening, and the pretty girl who met him was Katterle, the waiting maid of the beautiful Els, as Nuremberg folk called the Ortlieb sisters, Els and Eva.  Many vows of ardent, changeless love for her had risen to the moon, and the outward aspect of the man who made them afforded a certain degree of assurance that he would fulfil his pledges, for he then wore the long dark robe of reputable people, and on the front of his cap, from which a net shaped like a bag hung down his back, was a large S, and on the left shoulder of his long coat a T, the initials of the words Steadfast and True.  They bore witness that the person who had them embroidered on his clothing deemed these virtues the highest and noblest.  It might have been believed that the lean fellow, who scarcely looked his five-and-thirty years, possessed these lofty traits of character; for, though three full years had passed since his last meeting with Katterle at the building site, he had gone to his sweetheart with his wonted steadfastness and truth immediately after the Emperor Rudolph’s entry.

He had given her reason to rely upon him; but the moon’s gaze reaches far, and had discovered the quality of Walther Biberli’s “steadfastness and truth.”

In one respect it proved the best and noblest; for among thousands of servitors the moon had not seen one who clung to his lord with more loyal devotion.  Towards pretty young women, on the contrary, he displayed his principal virtues in a very singular way; for the pallid nocturnal wanderer above had met him in various lands and cities, and wherever he tarried long another maid was added to the list of those to whom Biberli vowed steadfastness and truth.

True, whenever Sir Long Coat’s travels led him back to any one to whom he had sworn eternal love, he went first to her, if she, too, retained the old affection.  But Katterle had cause to care for him most, for he was more warmly devoted to her than to any of the others, and in his own fashion his intentions were honest.  He seriously intended, as soon as his master left the imperial court—­which he hoped would not happen too soon—­and returned to his ancestral castle in his native Switzerland, to establish a home of his own for his old age, and no one save Katterle should light the hearth fire.  Her outward circumstances pleased him, as well as her disposition and person.  She was free-born, like himself—­the son of a forest keeper—­and, again like him, belonged to a Swiss family; her heritage (she was an orphan), which consisted of a house and arable land in her home, Sarnen, where she still sent her savings, satisfied his requirements.  But above all she believed in him and admired his versatile mind and his experience.  Moreover, she gave him absolute obedience, and loved him so loyally that she had remained unwedded, though a number of excellent men had sought her in marriage.