"My Lord, I am but an humble messenger, and I beg of you to listen to
what I am asked to say. My Lady, the Countess, has commissioned me to
tell you that--"

A startling malediction of the Countess that accorded ill with the
scarlet cross emblazoned on the young man's breast, interrupted the
girl.

"I hold no traffic with the Countess," he cried. "She has treacherously
laid me by the heels, coming as I did from battling for the Cross that
she doubtless professes to regard as sacred."

"It was because she feared you, my Lord. These years back tales of your
valour in the Holy Land have come to the Rhine, and now you return to
find your house at war with hers. What was she to do? The chances stood
even with only your underling in command; judge then what her fate must
be with your strong sword thrown in the balance against her. All's fair
in war, said those who counselled her. What would you have done in such
an extremity, my Lord?"

"What would I have done? I would have met my enemy sword in hand and
talked with him or fought with him as best suited his inclination."

"But a lady cannot meet you, sword in hand, my Lord."

The Count paused in the walk he had begun when the injustice of his
usage impressed itself once more upon him. He looked admiringly at the
girl.