to meet him in mortal combat, to answer for his unknightly behaviour towards his cousin, in having broken his engagement with her. Conrad accepted the challenge, and the next day at sunrise was to witness the dreadful sight of two brothers crossing their swords in fratricidal strife. On the narrow space of ground which separated the two castles, the combatants whose nearness of blood ought to have bound them to each other by the closest ties of friendship, were standing opposed, with flashing blades. Already the bugle note had sounded for the beginning of what would so decidedly bring down God's judgment upon them, when there glided in between the two brothers a closely veiled female figure, the messenger of peace.

"What are you going to do?" said she, with a dignity which commanded reverence. "Is it for my sake that you will make yourselves guilty of fratricide? I forbid this unnatural and wicked combat. It would also be in vain, for my decision is made. To-day a convent is to receive me, where I shall pass my days in retirement and prayer, while I shall pray God that your unfaithfulness towards me, Sir Conrad, may be forgiven, as I forgive you, and for you,

Sir Henry, that the richest abundance of earthly gifts may be showered upon you as a reward for your generosity, and chivalric self-sacrifice for me."

Having said this, she descended the hill to the high road, where her attendants were in waiting, and proceeded immediately to the neighbouring convent.

The brothers were reconciled to each other, and each returned to his castle, and although no hearty and cordial intercourse subsisted between the two, because Henry could not tolerate the conceited and frivolous manner in which his foreign sister-in-law received the compliments of each knight, still peace existed between them, and Conrad himself came over sometimes to Liebenstein. A most unhappy circumstance occurred which at last brought the brothers closer together. It was not long before the Greek lady eloped with a young knight who had received hospitality at Sternberg. This flight which convinced Conrad of his wife's unfaithfulness, cured him for ever of his foolish passion for the foreigner, and let him see clearly how very much he had sinned towards Hildegarde. But with this knowledge, and his

repentance in consequence, his love for her, whom he had so shamefully forsaken, returned also. He now found consolation in the society of his brother, and both lived together at Liebenstein while Sternberg remained desolate.

Hildegarde kept true to her religious vows, and bequeathed her rich possessions to the poor of the country, but from this time, the union of Henry and Conrad lasted till death, and after the demise of both, (when the two castles became the inheritance of the Kinght Bromser von Rudesheim) they were called the Brothers.

S. GOAR AND S. GOARSHAUSEN.

@BOUT the middle of A.D. 600, S. Goar, a devout and zealous teacher of the Christian faith, came to this then waste and thinly peopled district of the Rhine. He built a hut for himself in the wild and romantic spot below the Lurlei where the stream rushes foaming, compressed in a narrow bed of rocks.

He not only imparted to the poor fishermen the holy doctrines of Christianity, but he also taught these simple people many useful things, such as the cultivation of the vine and other garden work, as well as a better way of building their boats, so that the fame of this reverend man spread far and wide.

Sigisbert, King of France, who was a devout Christian, heard the praises of S. Goar, and wished to become acquainted with him. Ac

L

cordingly he soon gave him an appointment in the palace, and so pleased was the king, that he made him Bishop of Treves. This preferment, however, did not spoil the homely and modest man of God. He never neglected the poor fishermen, but lived amongst them and watched over their interests. He was permitted to see a good old age, and went on in the same way to the end of his life.

In consequence of the great veneration and love, which all who knew him felt for him, an oratory was built over his hut, to which pilgrims came from all parts to offer up their prayers at

his tomb.

It was religiously believed that miracles were worked by his relics to the curing of all kinds of diseases. Later on this oratory was very much enriched by pious gifts, and raised into a monastery; no pilgrim passed along the Rhine without visiting it, and moreover, tradition said that something unfortunate always happened to those who refused this tribute of respect.

The truth of this saying was experienced by Charlemagne himself. Once he sailed up the Rhine, without landing and saying his prayers in the Church of S. Goar, and a thick mist