"Holy hermit," said the knight, in a grave voice, "make ready thy
ministry, for there is some one about to die."
"Where, son?"
"Here, father."
"Is he here, now?"
"Perhaps," said the stout warrior, crossing himself; "but not so if
right prevail." At this moment he caught sight of a ferry-boat putting
off from Nonnenwerth, with a knight on board. Ludwig knew at once, by
the sinople reversed and the truncated gules on his surcoat, that it was
Sir Gottfried of Godesberg.
"Be ready, father," said the good knight, pointing towards the advancing
boat; and waving his hand by way of respect to the reverend hermit,
without a further word, he vaulted into his saddle, and rode back for
a few score of paces; when he wheeled round, and remained steady. His
great lance and pennon rose in the air. His armor glistened in the
sun; the chest and head of his battle-horse were similarly covered with
steel. As Sir Gottfried, likewise armed and mounted (for his horse had
been left at the ferry hard by), advanced up the road, he almost started
at the figure before him--a glistening tower of steel.
"Are you the lord of this pass, Sir Knight?" said Sir Gottfried,
haughtily, "or do you hold it against all comers, in honor of your
lady-love?"
"I am not the lord of this pass.
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