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"Should I hesitate if I meant to do it?" murmured the King. "But this stranger sits like an owl upon my trees; all the birds of the air shout at and scream against him. Not long ago the kings of the Oder also sent to demand his person."

"Thou dost not deceive me," broke forth the Queen, with fierce anger. "See to it, oh King! if thou canst live after such shame, I will not. To the perjured wretch, who sells his sworn comrade for Roman gold, I refuse all companionship at table and bed."

The King looked askance at Gisela. "Thy thoughts storm violently; they miss the mark."

"Who is more zealous for the King's honor than the Queen?" answered the woman, striving for composure. "If thou dost not venture to keep him from the Romans, let him go from thy court. It is better to show thyself weak than faithless."

"In order that after such an indignity he may live as my enemy?" said the King.

"Bind him, then, by a high oath; he is, as I think, one of those who keep their oaths."

"Will the Queen so persuade him that he will never think of the indignity?" asked the lord of the castle, watching her suspiciously.

"I will," replied Gisela, with a faltering voice, "if it is useful to the King."

They stood opposite to each other, with dark thoughts. At last the King began. "In time of danger quick deeds are useful. Make a trial, Gisela; send him a message this evening, asking him to a secret conference in thy tower. Perhaps thou mayest help him there to a good departure."

The Queen looked down; her face was pallid as she answered, "I will advise him to depart, as thou commandest it." She turned quickly from the King, and he looked after her gloomily.

In the evening the Queen was waiting in her apartment in the tower; the night-songsters sat on the wall, and lamented over the evil which was preparing for some one; the wax tapers flickered under the sharp gusts of air which penetrated through the open window, and shifted the shadow of the beautiful woman here and there on the wall. Queen Gisela stood in the middle of the room in festive attire, her red diadem upon her brow, her pale head bent forward, and her hands clenched fast, as if for some violent deed. "If thou depart from here, Ingo, it will be a pain to me worse than death; and if thou remain, then, of three who live here, there will be one too many." She shrank within herself, and listened again; from below there sounded a murmur of voices and a slight clash of weapons. Then she tore the taper from the high candlestick, and held it out of the window, so that the smoke and the glaring flame floated over the battlements of the tower, and the owls flew away frightened. A few minutes afterward a single hunting-call answered from the distance; the Queen took the light back, and pushed the tapestry before the opening of the window.

A man's step sounded on the stone staircase. "It is he," she said in a low tone. But when the door opened, she started back, for King Bisino entered. His countenance was gloomy, his robust body was covered with a coat of mail, his head with a steel cap; on the handle of his sword a blood-red jewel gleamed in the light. "The Queen is attired as if for a high festival," he said, angrily.

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