A hundred and eight years
Irmengarde has lived with this spirit in her. Before her it was in old
Edith of Haslach; before Edith in some other--"
"Do you believe that?"
"Do I believe it! It is as sure, Master Bernard, as that the sun will be
back in three hours' time. Death is night, life is day. After night comes
day, then night again, and so on without end. The sun is the soul of the
sky, the great spirit that is in us all, and the souls of the saints are
like the stars which shine in the night, and which will never cease to
return."
Bernard Hertzog replied not another word, but having risen, he began
suspiciously to consider the aspect of that aged woman, who sat still in
a niche carved out of the rock. He noticed above the niche some rough
carving on the stone representing three trees with their branches
touching, and forming a sort of crown; lower down were three toads cut in
the granite. Three trees are the arms of the Tribocci (_dreien buechen_),
three toads are the arms of the Merovingian kings.
What was the surprise of the old chronicler! Covetousness now took the
place of alarm.
"Here," thought he, "is the oldest monument of the Frankish race in Gaul.
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