Burlesques William Makepeace Thackeray

185
"What mean ye?" cried Count Ludwig, deeply affected. "A false friend? I am not a false
friend. A false woman? Surely the lovely Theodora, your wife—"
"I have no wife, Louis, now; I have no wife and no son."
In accents broken by grief, the Margrave explained what had occurred. Gottfried's
information was but too correct. There was a CAUSE for the likeness between Otto and Sir
Hildebrandt: a fatal cause! Hildebrandt and Theodora had met at dawn at the outer gate.
The Margrave had seen them. They walked long together; they embraced. Ah! how the
husband's, the father's, feelings were harrowed at that embrace! They parted; and then the
Margrave, coming forward, coldly signified to his lady that she was to retire to a convent
for life, and gave orders that the boy should be sent too, to take the vows at a monastery.
Both sentences had been executed. Otto, in a boat, and guarded by a company of his father's
men-at-arms, was on the river going towards Cologne, to the monastery of Saint Buffo
there. The Lady Theodora, under the guard of Sir Gottfried and an attendant, were on their
way to the convent of Nonnenwerth, which many of our readers have seen—the beautiful
Green Island Convent, laved by the bright waters of the Rhine!
"What road did Gottfried take?" asked the Knight of Hombourg, grinding his teeth.
"You cannot overtake him," said the Margrave. "My good Gottfried, he is my only comfort
now: he is my kinsman, and shall be my heir. He will be back anon."
"Will he so?" thought Sir Ludwig. "I will ask him a few questions ere he return." And
springing from his couch, he began forthwith to put on his usual morning dress of complete
armor; and, after a hasty ablution, donned, not his cap of maintenance, but his helmet of
battle. He rang the bell violently.
"A cup of coffee, straight," said he, to the servitor who answered the summons; "bid the
cook pack me a sausage and bread in paper, and the groom saddle Streithengst; we have far
to ride."
The various orders were obeyed. The horse was brought; the refreshments disposed of; the
clattering steps of the departing steed were heard in the court-yard; but the Margrave took
no notice of his friend, and sat, plunged in silent grief, quite motionless by the empty
bedside.