They found the two knights drinking wine within.Folko was relating stories in his usual mild and cheerful manner, and Biorn was listening with a moody air, but yet as if, against his will, the dark cloud might pass away before that bright and gentle courtesy.

Gabrielle saluted the baron with a smile, and signed to him to continue his discourse, as she took her place near the knight Biorn, full of watchful kindness.Sintram stood by the hearth, abstracted and melancholy; and the embers, as he stirred them, cast a strange glow over his pallid features.

"And of all the German trading-towns," continued Montfaucon, "the largest and richest is Hamburgh.In Normandy we willingly see their merchants land on our coasts, and those excellent people never fail to prove themselves our friends when we seek their advice and assistance.When I first visited Hamburgh, every honour and respect was paid to me.I found its inhabitants engaged in a war with a neighbouring count, and immediately I used my sword for them, vigorously and successfully.""Your sword! your knightly sword!" interrupted Biorn; and the old wonted fire flashed from his eyes."Against a knight, and for shopkeepers!""Sir knight," replied Folko, calmly, "the barons of Montfaucon have ever used their swords as they chose, without the interference of another; and as I have received this good custom, so do I wish to hand it on.If you agree not to this, so speak it freely out.But Iforbid every rude word against the men of Hamburgh, since I have declared them to be my friends."Biorn cast down his haughty eyes, and their fire faded away.In a low voice he said, "Proceed, noble baron.You are right, and I am wrong."Then Folko stretched out his hand to him across the table, and resumed his narration: "Amongst all my beloved Hamburghers the dearest to me are two men of marvellous experience--a father and son.

What have they not seen and done in the remotest corners of the earth, and instituted in their native town! Praise be to God, my life cannot be called unfruitful; but, compared with the wise Gotthard Lenz and his stout-hearted son Rudlieb, I look upon myself as an esquire who has perhaps been some few times to tourneys, and, besides that, has never hunted out his own forests.They have converted, subdued, gladdened, dark men whom I know not how to name;and the wealth which they have brought back with them has all been devoted to the common weal, as if fit for no other purpose.On their return from their long and perilous sea-voyages, they hasten to an hospital which has been founded by them, and where they undertake the part of overseers, and of careful and patient nurses.Then they proceed to select the most fitting spots whereon to erect new towers and fortresses for the defence of their beloved country.Next they repair to the houses where strangers and travellers receive hospitality at their cost; and at last they return to their own abode, to entertain their guests, rich and noble like kings, and simple and unconstrained like shepherds.Many a tale of their wondrous adventures serves to enliven these sumptuous feasts.