The story of Dietrich’s wealth and generosity became known in the
palace, and Princess Oda was seized with an intense curiosity to see
the hero of so many tales. She took counsel with Herlind, her chief
lady-in-waiting, as to how she might accomplish her purpose with most
propriety. Then, acting on her advice, she begged her father to get up
some races, and allow her and her ladies to watch the sport. The
emperor consented, and on the appointed day a large assemblage of
spectators appeared on the course. The crush of people who collected
round Dietrich was so great that none of the ladies of the court were
able to get so much as a glimpse of him. The next day Oda called
Herlind into her room, and promised her five gold bracelets if she
would contrive a secret meeting between her and the stranger. Herlind
promised to do her best. She went to Dietrich’s lodging, taking every
precaution against being seen, and gave him her mistress’s message. He
refused to go and see the princess, lest the news of his having done so
should leak out and come to the emperor’s ears. But before dismissing
Herlind, he gave her a golden and a silver shoe as a present. She
hastened back to her lady and told her all.
“He is a noble man,” said Oda, “and cares more for our honour than for
his own safety. I will keep the shoes in remembrance of him, and will
give you instead as many gold pieces as they will hold.”
Herlind was satisfied with the proposal and now tried to put the shoes
on her lady’s feet, but could not, for they were both made for the same
foot.
“Go,” cried the princess, “he is not true. I will have none of his
gifts, and will think of him no more. Take back the shoes and throw
them at his feet.”
Wise Herlind understood how to interpret her mistress’s command. She
hastened to Dietrich, and told him that the princess was angry with
him, but that her curiosity to see him was so great that she would no
doubt pardon him if he took a proper pair of shoes with his own hand.
Dietrich seized the first moment when he could reach the princess’s
apartments unobserved, and knocked at the door.
He stopped on the threshold in amazement at the wondrous beauty of the
maiden who advanced to meet him. She was also struck by his stately
bearing and the resolute expression of his handsome manly face. She had
intended to show him her displeasure, but she could not; she could only
listen to the grave and sensible explanation he gave of his conduct in
not at once obeying her commands. And when he asked permission to put
the shoes on her feet, she could not deny him. In course of
conversation he mentioned Rother’s offer for her hand, and then, little
by little, told her his secret, and the reason that had brought him to
Constantinople. He asked her for her love, and she promised to be his
wife. He now showed her that her father’s sentiments being what they
were, their only chance of happiness was to fly together, and explained
that before they could attempt to make their escape his faithful
servants, who were still confined in the emperor’s dungeons, must be
set at liberty. He begged Oda to try to get them set free. She promised
to do her best, and pointed out the gloomy tower in which they were
imprisoned.
Next day the princess appeared before her father, dressed in deep
mourning, and told him that she had had a dreadful dream that night.
Her room had seemed full of flames from the nethermost hell, and she
had heard a voice call to her that if King Rother’s twelve messengers
were not brought out of their dungeons, and furnished with clothes,
food and wine, she would fall under eternal condemnation.
“That was the devil’s voice, not an angel’s,” answered Constantine,
“and I will not, on such a command, give up the rights I possess by the
grace of God. But if it will make you happier, Oda, I will allow the
prisoners to have their liberty for a short time, on condition that
some one will offer his life to me as bail for them that they will not
try to make their escape.”
Oda left her father’s presence much comforted, for she had made up her
mind what to do.