She eyed the young nobleman with a bold gaze, never weening that this challenge was all he waited for.  He tossed his curly head, and cried with sparkling eyes:  “Then, mistress, I would have you to know that I would take no kiss from you, even if you were to offer it.  I have spoken—­now call forth your champions.”

He was silent a moment, and then, glancing round at the bystanders with defiant looks, he went on:  “If any gentleman here present sets a higher price than I, the high-born Henning Beust, heir and Lord of Busta and Schadstett, on a kiss from the lips which have wronged my fair lady with spiteful speech, let him now stoop and pick up my glove.  There it lies!”

And he flung it on the ground, while Ursula turned pale.  Her eyes turned from one to another of the young gentlemen who paid her court and they were many—­and the longer silence reigned the faster came her breath and the hotter waxed her ire.  But on a sudden she was calm; her eyes had lighted on Sir Franz von Welemisl, and all might read what she demanded of him.  The Bohemian understood her; he picked up the glove and muttered to the Junker with a shrug:  “Mistress Ursula commands me!”

A look of pain passed over the brave youth’s merry face, for that heretofore the young knight and he had been in good fellowship, and he hastily answered:  “Nay, Sir Knight; I would have crossed swords with you readily enough or ever you had felt the prick of Swabian steel; but now you are not yet fully yourself again, and to fight with a friend who is sick is against the rule of my country.”

The words were spoken from a kind and honest heart, and I saw in Sir Franz’s face that he knew their intent was true; but as he put forth his hand to grasp the Junker’s, Ursula tossed her head in high disdain.  Sir Franz hastily changed his mien, and cried:  “Then you will do well to act against the rule of your country, and fight the champion of the lady you have offended.”

Here the dispute had an end, forasmuch as that my lord the duke, leader of the embassy, hearing the Brandenburger’s fierce voice, came in haste from the supper-board to restore peace; and as he led away the Junker it was plain to all that he was taking him sharply to task.  It was, in truth, a criminal misdeed in one of the Imperial envoy to cast down his glove at a dance, where he was the guest of a peaceful city; and that the duke imposed no severe penance for it the Junker might thank the worshipful members of the council who were present; they were indeed disposed to let well alone, inasmuch as they had it at heart to send the whole party home again well-pleased with Nuremberg.

The music was soon sounding merrily again in the solemn town-hall, and of all the young folks who danced so gleefully, and laughed and chattered Ursula was the last to let it be seen how this grand revel had been troubled by her fault.  Her eyes were bright with glad contentment, and she was so free with Sir Franz that it might have seemed that they would quit the town hall a plighted couple.