On certain evenings, around dusk, Countess Berthe of La Roche can be seen prowling the ruins of the château where she died…

But who is Berthe?
A Sire de La Roche, with only an only daughter, Berthe, to inherit his powerful estate, organized a great tournament at the château. The hand of the wealthy heiress would belong to the Knight who, in a fair fight, had remained victorious over all rivals.
The first knight to appear was the Count of Montaigu, a colossus, proud of his strength, whom no opposing spear had ever been able to dismount.
So no other champion came forward.
However, it was to the Countess Alix de Salm that the Count of Montaigu had pledged his faith.
With the time limit almost reached, a rider entered the courtyard. What a singular adversary! He was a tiny knight, almost a child, and at the sight of this puny champion, the Comte de Montaigu was seized with a tremendous fit of laughter.
In front of the knights and ladies, the unequal battle began.
With a tremendous clang of iron, and the heavy gallop of his warhorse, the Comte de Montaigu rushed against his weak adversary, who was armed only with a light harness, and his horse was not protected by any armor. With marvellous dexterity, in one swift leap, this supple mount avoided the Count’s violent impact.
In an instant, the Count had turned and was marching again, this time more slowly and methodically, against his skilful rival. But no matter how many times he struck, it was all to no avail and he was getting terribly hot. Moderating his mount’s speed, the little knight stopped and waited with an upright, defiant stance.
Taking advantage of this moment, the Count hastened up; The Colossus’ sword whirled in the air and, with a flash of steel, hissed down on the reckless youth.
But the little knight was already gone, as the Count’s heavy mass, swept along by his momentum, lost its balance and fell to the ground with a clatter of broken iron. The little knight, inserting the thin blade of the light sword under the knuckle of the helm, slit the throat of the redoubtable count with a single blow.
A moment later, the happy father led the newlyweds up the dungeon to the bridal chamber.
Early the next morning, eager to witness and share in the young couple’s happiness, the father was waiting in the château courtyard. But the sun kept rising, and the father never saw them appear. Weary of this long, fruitless wait, he climbed the dungeon steps, ran to the door of the bridal chamber and knocked. No answer… Powerless to suppress paternal concerns, the father pushed open the door; it yielded, but the room was empty and the window open. With one bound, the panic-stricken father rushed into it, scanning the void with terror: at the bottom of the abyss, on the rock, on the banks of the Ourthe, two dots stood out: one was black, the other white.
The mysterious Knight was none other than the Countess Alix de Salm who, under this disguise and after having made a pact with the devil, had taken revenge on the Count of Montaigu and the beautiful Berthe de La Roche…

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