CHAPTER XXX.
In that same hall, in the evening, at a table sat old Siegfried, who after Danveld's demise had taken temporary charge of Schytno; near him sat Brother Rotgier, the knight de Bergov, Yurand's recent captive, and two noble youths, novices, who were soon to assume the white mantle. A winter whirlwind was howling outside the windows; it shook the leaden sashes, and caused the torches burning in iron sockets to quiver, and blew from time to time rolls of smoke down the chimney, and through the hall. Silence reigned among the brothers, though they had assembled to take counsel. They were waiting for Siegfried's words, but he, with elbows on the table and his palms against his drooping gray head, sat gloomy, with his face in the shadow, and grim thoughts in his soul.
"On what are we to take counsel?" asked Brother Rotgier, at last.
Siegfried raised his head, gazed at the speaker, and said, rousing himself from meditation,—
"On the misfortune and on this: What will the Grand Master and the Chapter say? Besides, we are to see that no harm come to the Order from our actions."
Then he was silent again, but after a time he looked around and moved his nostrils.
"There is still an odor of blood here."
"No," answered Rotgier, "I gave command to wash the floor, and smoke the place with sulphur. The smell is of sulphur."
Siegfried cast a strange glance on those present and said,—
"Have mercy, O God, on the soul of Brother Danveld and on the soul of Brother Gottfried!"
But they understood that he implored the mercy of God on those souls because the thought of hell had occurred to him at the mention of sulphur; hence a shiver ran through their bones, and all answered in chorus,—
"Amen, amen, amen!"
