TH DOVE IN THE EAGLE'S NEST. CHAPTER I. THE DOUBLE-HEADED EAGLE. ONE summer evening, when shooting at a bird on a pole was in full exercise in the tilt-yard, the sports were interrupted by a message from the Provost that a harbinger had brought tidings that the Imperial court was within a day's journey. All was preparation. Fresh sand had to be strewn on the arena. New tapestry hangings were to deck the galleries, the houses and balconies to be brave with drapery, the fountain in the market-place was to play Rhine wine, all Ulm was astir to do honour to itself and to the Kaisar, and Ebbo stood amid all the bustle, drawing lines in the sand with the stock of his arblast, subject to all that oppressive selfmagnification so frequent in early youth, and which VOL. II. made it seem to him as if the Kaisar and the King of the Romans were coming to Ulm with the mere purpose of destroying his independence, and as if the eyes of all Germany were watching for his humiliation. "See! see!" suddenly exclaimed Friedel; "Look! there is something among the tracery of the Dome Kirk Tower. Is it man or bird?" Bird, folly! Thou couldst see no bird less than an eagle from hence," said Ebbo. "No doubt they are about to hoist a banner." "That is not their wont," returned Sir Kasimir. "I see him," interrupted Ebbo. "Nay, but he is a bold climber! We went up to that stage, close to the balcony, but there's no footing beyond but crockets and canopies." "And a bit of rotten scaffold," added Friedel. "Perhaps he is a builder going to examine it! Up higher, higher!" "A builder!" said Ebbo; a man with a head and foot like that should be a chamois hunter! Shouldst thou deem it worse than the Red Eyrie, Friedel?" Yea, truly! The depth beneath is plainer ! There would be no climbing there without" |