"You shall know all soon, dear Ludwig," said the Margrave, with a
heart-rending look. "You marked Gottfried, who left the room anon?"
"I did."
"You look incredulous concerning his worth; but I tell thee, Ludwig,
that yonder Gottfried is a good fellow, and my fast friend. Why should
he not be! He is my near relation, heir to my property: should I" (here
the Margrave's countenance assumed its former expression of excruciating
agony),--"SHOULD I HAVE NO SON."
"But I never saw the boy in better health," replied Sir Ludwig.
"Nevertheless,--ha! ha!--it may chance that I shall soon have no son."
The Margrave had crushed many a cup of wine during dinner, and Sir
Ludwig thought naturally that his gallant friend had drunken rather
deeply. He proceeded in this respect to imitate him; for the stern
soldier of those days neither shrunk before the Paynim nor the
punch-bowl: and many a rousing night had our crusader enjoyed in Syria
with lion-hearted Richard; with his coadjutor, Godfrey of Bouillon; nay,
with the dauntless Saladin himself.
"You knew Gottfried in Palestine?" asked the Margrave.
"I did."
"Why did ye not greet him then, as ancient comrades should, with the
warm grasp of friendship? It is not because Sir Gottfried is poor? You
know well that he is of race as noble as thine own, my early friend!"
"I care not for his race nor for his poverty," replied the blunt
crusader.
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