The noble lady had just unbuckled her knight's armour with her own fair hands,--on the field of battle alone were pages or esquires bidden handle Montfaucon's armour,--and now she was throwing over his shoulders his mantle of blue velvet embroidered with gold, when the door opened gently, and Sintram entered the room, humbly greeting them.

Gabrielle received him kindly, as she was wont, but suddenly turning pale, she looked away and said: "O Sintram, what has happened to you?
And how can one single night have so fearfully altered you ?" Sintram stood still, thunderstruck, and feeling as if he himself did not know what had befallen him.

Then Folko took him by the hand, led him towards a bright polished shield, and said very earnestly, "Look here at yourself, young knight!" At the first glance Sintram drew back horrified.

He fancied that he saw the little Master before him with that single upright feather sticking out of his cap; but he at length perceived that the mirror was only showing him his own image and none other, and that his own wild dagger had given him this strange and spectre-like aspect, as he could not deny to himself.
"Who has done that to you ?" asked Folko, yet more grave and solemn.

"And what terror makes your disordered hair stand on end ?" Sintram knew not what to answer.