5 files changed, 2796 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/5573.txt b/5573.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..203fcc4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/5573.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,2780 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook A Word Only A Word, by Georg Ebers, v2
+#134 in our series by Georg Ebers
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
+copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing
+this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.
+
+This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project
+Gutenberg file.  Please do not remove it.  Do not change or edit the
+header without written permission.
+
+Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the
+eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file.  Included is
+important information about your specific rights and restrictions in
+how the file may be used.  You can also find out about how to make a
+donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.
+
+
+**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
+
+**EBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
+
+*****These EBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers*****
+
+
+Title: A Word Only A Word, Volume 2.
+
+Author: Georg Ebers
+
+Release Date: April, 2004  [EBook #5573]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on August 12, 2002]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+
+
+
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A WORD ONLY A WORD, BY EBERS, V2 ***
+
+
+
+This eBook was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net>
+
+
+
+[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the
+file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an
+entire meal of them.  D.W.]
+
+
+
+
+
+A WORD, ONLY A WORD
+
+By Georg Ebers
+
+Volume 2.
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+The magistrate's horses did not reach the city gate, from the monastery,
+more quickly than Ulrich.
+
+As soon as the smith was roused from sleep by the boy's knock and
+recognized his voice, he knew what was coming, and silently listened to
+the lad's confessions, while he himself hurriedly yet carefully took out
+his hidden hoard, filled a bag with the most necessary articles, thrust
+his lightest hammer into his belt, and poured water on the glimmering
+coals.  Then, locking the door, he sent Ulrich to Hangemarx, with whom he
+had already settled many things; for Caspar, the juggler, who learned
+more through his daughters than any other man, had come to him the day
+before, to tell him that something was being plotted against the Jew.
+
+Adam found the latter still awake and at work.  He was prepared for the
+danger that threatened him, and ready to fly.  No word of complaint, not
+even a hasty gesture betrayed the mental anguish of the persecuted man,
+and the smith's heart melted, as he heard the doctor rouse his wife and
+child from their sleep.
+
+The terrified moans of the startled wife, and Ruth's loud weeping and
+curious questions, were soon drowned by the lamentations of old Rahel,
+who wrapped in even more kerchiefs than usual, rushed into the sitting-
+room, and while lamenting and scolding in a foreign tongue, gathered
+together everything that lay at hand.  She had dragged a large chest
+after her, and now threw in candlesticks, jugs, and even the chessmen and
+Ruth's old doll with a broken head.
+
+When the third hour after midnight came, the doctor was ready for
+departure.
+
+Marx's charcoal sledge, with its little horse, stopped before the door.
+
+This was a strange animal, no larger than a calf, as thin as a goat, and
+in some places woolly, in others as bare as a scraped poodle.
+
+The smith helped the dumb woman into the sleigh, the doctor put Ruth in
+her lap, Ulrich consoled the child, who asked him all sorts of questions,
+but the old woman would not part from the chest, and could scarcely be
+induced to enter the vehicle.
+
+"You know, across the mountains into the Rhine valley--no matter where,"
+Costa whispered to the poacher.
+
+Hangemarx urged on his little horse, and answered, not turning to the
+Israelite, who had addressed him, but to Adam, who he thought would
+understand him better than the bookworm: "It won't do to go up the
+ravine, without making any circuit.  The count's hounds will track us,
+if they follow.  We'll go first up the high road by the Lautenhof.
+To-morrow will be a fair-day.  People will come early from the villages
+and tread down the snow, so the dogs will lose the scent.  If it would
+only snow."
+
+Before the smithy, the doctor held out his hand to Adam, saying: "We part
+here, friend."
+
+"We'll go with you, if agreeable to you."
+
+"Consider," the other began warningly, but Adam interrupted him, saying:
+
+"I have considered everything; lost is lost.  Ulrich, take the doctor's
+sack from his shoulder."
+
+For a long time nothing more was said.
+
+The night was clear and cold; the men's footsteps fell noiselessly on the
+soft snow, nothing was heard except the creaking of the sledge, and ever
+and anon Elizabeth's low moaning, or a louder word in the old woman's
+soliloquy.  Ruth had fallen asleep on her mother's lap, and was breathing
+heavily.
+
+At Lautenhof a narrow path led through the mountains deep into the
+forest.
+
+As it grew steeper, the snow became knee-deep, and the men helped the
+little horse, which often coughed, tossing its thick head up and down, as
+if working a churn.  Once, when the poor creature met with a very heavy
+fall, Marx pointed to the green woollen scarf on the animal's neck, and
+whispered to the smith "Twenty years old, and has the glanders besides."
+
+The little beast nodded slowly and mournfully, as if to say: "Life is
+hard; this will probably be the last time I draw a sleigh."
+
+The broad, heavy-laden pine-boughs drooped wearily by the roadside, the
+gleaming surface of the snow stretched in a monotonous sheet of white
+between the trunks of the trees, the tops of the dark rocks beside the
+way bore smooth white caps of loose snow, the forest stream was frozen
+along the edges, only in the centre did the water trickle through snow-
+crystals and sharp icicles to the valley.
+
+So long as the moon shone, flickering rays danced and sparkled on the ice
+and snow, but afterwards only the tedious glimmer of the universal snow-
+pall lighted the traveller's way.
+
+"If it would only snow!"  repeated the charcoal-burner.
+
+The higher they went, the deeper grew the snow, the more wearisome the
+wading and climbing.
+
+Often, on the doctor's account, the smith called in a low voice, "Halt!"
+and then Costa approached the sleigh and asked: "How do you feel?"  or
+said: "We are getting on bravely."
+
+Rahel screamed whenever a fox barked in the distance, a wolf howled, or
+an owl flew through the treetops, brushing the snow from the branches
+with its wings; but the others also started.  Marx alone walked quietly
+and undisturbed beside his little horse's thick head; he was familiar
+with all the voices of the forest.
+
+It grew colder towards morning.  Ruth woke and cried, and her father,
+panting for breath, asked: "When shall we rest?"
+
+"Behind  the  height;  ten arrow-shots farther," replied the charcoal-
+burner.
+
+"Courage," whispered the smith.  "Get on the sledge, doctor; we'll push."
+
+But Costa shook his head, pointed to the panting horse, and dragged
+himself onward.
+
+The poacher must have sent his arrows in a strange curve, for one quarter
+of an hour after another slipped by, and the top was not yet gained.
+Meantime it grew lighter and lighter, and the charcoal-burner, with
+increasing anxiety, ever and anon raised his head, and glanced aside.
+The sky was covered with clouds-the light overhead grey, dim, and blended
+with mist.  The snow was still dazzling, though it no longer sparkled and
+glittered, but covered every object with the dull whiteness of chalk.
+
+Ulrich kept beside the sledge to push it.  When Ruth heard him groan, she
+stroked the hand that grasped the edges, this pleased him; and he smiled.
+
+When they again stopped, this time on the crest of the ridge, Ulrich
+noticed that the charcoal-burner was sniffing the air like a hound, and
+asked:
+
+"What is it, Marxle?"
+
+The poacher grinned, as he answered: "It's going to snow; I smell it."
+
+The road now led down towards the valley, and, after a short walk, the
+charcoal-burner said:
+
+"We shall find shelter below with Jorg, and a warm fire too, you poor
+women."
+
+These were cheering words, and came just at the right time, for large
+snow-flakes began to fill the air, and a light breeze drove them into
+the travellers' faces.  "There!"  cried Ulrich, pointing to the snow
+covered roof of a wooden hut, that stood close before them in a clearing
+on the edge of the forest.
+
+Every face brightened, but Marx shook his head doubtfully, muttering:
+
+"No smoke, no barking; the place is empty.  Jorg has gone.  At
+Whitsuntide--how many years ago is it?--the boys left  to act as
+raftsmen, but then he stayed here."
+
+Reckoning time was not the charcoal-burner's strong point; and the empty
+hut, the dreary open window-casements in the mouldering wooden walls, the
+holes in the roof, through which a quantity of snow had drifted into the
+only room in the deserted house, indicated that no human being had sought
+shelter here for many a winter.
+
+Old Rahel uttered a fresh wail of grief, when she saw this shelter; but
+after the men had removed the snow as well as they could, and covered the
+holes in the roof with pine-branches; when Adam had lighted a fire, and
+the sacks and coverlets were brought in from the sledge, and laid on a
+dry spot to furnish seats for the women, fresh courage entered their
+hearts, and Rahel, unasked, dragged herself to the hearth, and set the
+snow-filled pot on the fire.
+
+"The nag must have two hours' rest," Marx said, "then they could push on
+and reach the miller in the ravine before night.  There they would find
+kind friends, for Jacklein had been with him among the 'peasants.'"
+The snow-water boiled, the doctor and his wife rested, Ulrich and Ruth
+brought wood, which the smith had split, to the fire to dry, when
+suddenly a terrible cry of grief rang outside of the hut.
+
+Costa hastily rose, the children followed, and old Rahel, whimpering,
+drew the upper kerchief on her head over her face.
+
+The little horse, its tiny legs stretched far apart, was lying in the
+snow by the sledge.  Beside it knelt Marx, holding the clumsy head on his
+knee, and blowing with his crooked mouth into the animal's nostrils.  The
+creature showed its yellow teeth, and put out its bluish tongue as if it
+wanted to lick him; then the heavy head fell, the dying animal's eyes
+started from their sockets, its legs grew perfectly stiff, and this time
+the horse was really dead, while the shafts of the sledge vainly thrust
+themselves into the air, like the gaping mouth of a deserted bird.
+
+No farther progress was possible.  The women sat trembling in the hut,
+roasting before the fire, and shivering when a draught touched them....
+Ruth wept for the poor little horse, and Marx sat as if utterly crushed
+beside his old friend's stiffening body, heeding nothing, least of all
+the snow, which was making him whiter than the miller, with whom he had
+expected to rest that evening.  The doctor gazed in mute despair at his
+dumb wife, who, with clasped hands, was praying fervently; the smith
+pressed his hand upon his brow, vainly pondering over what was to be done
+now, until his head ached; while, from the distance, echoed the howl of a
+hungry wolf, and a pair of ravens alighted on a white bough beside the
+little horse, gazing greedily at the corpse lying in the snow.
+
+Meantime, the abbot was sitting in his pleasantly-warmed study, which was
+pervaded by a faint, agreeable perfume, gazing now at the logs burning in
+the beautiful marble mantel-piece, and then at the magistrate, who had
+brought him strange tidings.
+
+The prelate's white woollen morning-robe clung closely around his stately
+figure.  Beside him lay, side by side, for comparison, two manuscript
+copies of his favorite book, the idyls of Theocritus, which, for his
+amusement, and to excel the translation of Coban Hesse, he was turning
+into Latin verse, as the duties of his office gave him leisure.
+
+The magistrate was standing by the fire-side.  He was a thick-set man of
+middle height, with a large head, and clever but coarse features, as
+rudely moulded as if they had been carved from wood.  He was one of the
+best informed lawyers in the country, and his words flowed as smoothly
+and clearly from his strong lips, as if every thought in his keen brain
+was born fully matured and beautifully finished.
+
+In the farthest corner of the room, awaiting a sign from his master,
+stood the magistrate's clerk, a little man with a round head, and legs
+like the sickle of the waxing or waning moon.  He carried under his short
+arms two portfolios, filled with important papers.
+
+"He comes from Portugal, and has lived under an assumed name?"  So the
+abbot repeated, what he had just heard.
+
+"His name is Lopez, not Costa," replied the other; "these papers prove
+it.  Give me the portfolio, man!  The diploma is in the brown one."
+
+He handed a parchment to the prelate, who, after reading it, said firmly:
+
+"This Jew is a more important person than we supposed.  They are not
+lavish with such praise in Coimbra.  Are you taking good care of the
+doctor's books Herr Conrad?  I will look at them to-morrow."
+
+"They are at your disposal.  These papers.  .  .  ."
+
+"Leave them, leave them."
+
+"There will be more than enough for the complaint without them," said
+the magistrate.  "Our town-clerk, who though no student is, as you know,
+a man of much experience, shares my opinion."  Then he continued
+pathetically: "Only he who has cause to fear the law hides his name,
+only he, who feels guilty, flees the judge."
+
+A subtle smile, that was not wholly free from bitterness, hovered around
+the abbot's lips, for he thought of the painful trial and the torture-
+chamber in the town hall, and no longer saw in the doctor merely the Jew,
+but the humanist and companion in study.
+
+His glance again fell on the diploma, and while the other continued his
+representations, the prelate stretched himself more comfortably in his
+arm-chair and gazed thoughtfully at the ground.  Then, as if an idea had
+suddenly occurred to him, he touched his high forehead with the tips of
+his fingers, and suddenly interrupting the eager speaker, said:
+
+"Father Anselm came to us from Porto five years ago, and when there knew
+every one who understood Greek.  Go, Gutbub, and tell the librarian to
+come."  The monk soon appeared.
+
+Tidings of Ulrich's disappearance and the Jew's flight had spread rapidly
+through the monastery; the news was discussed in the choir, the school,
+the stable and the kitchen; Father Anselm alone had heard nothing of the
+matter, though he had been busy in the library before daybreak, and the
+vexatious incident had been eagerly talked of there.
+
+It was evident, that the elderly man cared little for anything that
+happened in the world, outside of his manuscripts and printing.  His
+long, narrow head rested on a thin neck, which did not stand erect, but
+grew out between the shoulders like a branch from the stem.  His face was
+grey and lined with wrinkles, like pumice-stone, but large bright eyes
+lent meaning and attraction to the withered countenance.
+
+At first he listened indifferently to the abbot's story, but as soon as
+the Jew's name was mentioned, and he had read the diploma, as swiftly as
+if he possessed the gift of gathering the whole contents of ten lines at
+a single comprehensive glance, he said eagerly:
+
+"Lopez, Doctor Lopez was here!  And we did not know it, and have not
+consulted with him!  Where is he?  What are people planning against him?"
+
+After he had learned that the Jew had fled, and the abbot requested him
+to tell all he knew about the doctor, he collected his thoughts and
+sorrowfully began:
+
+"To be sure, to be sure; the man committed a great offence.  He is a
+great sinner in God's eyes.  You know his guilt?"
+
+"We know everything," cried the magistrate, with a meaning glance at the
+prelate.  Then, as if he sincerely pitied the criminal, he continued with
+well-feigned sympathy: "How did the learned man commit such a misdeed?"
+
+The abbot understood the stratagem, but Anselm's words could not be
+recalled, and as he himself desired to learn more of the doctor's
+history, he asked the monk to tell what he knew.
+
+The librarian, in his curt, dry manner, yet with a warmth unusual to him,
+described the doctor's great learning and brilliant intellect, saying
+that his father, though a Jew, had been in his way an aristocratic man,
+allied with many a noble family, for until the reign of King Emanuel, who
+persecuted the Hebrews, they had enjoyed great distinction in Portugal.
+In those days it had been hard to distinguish Jews from Christians.  At
+the time of the expulsion a few favored Israelites had been allowed to
+stay, among them the worthy Rodrigo, the doctor's father, who had been
+the king's physician and was held in high esteem by the sovereign.
+Lopez obtained the highest honors at Coimbra, but instead of following
+medicine, like his father, devoted himself to the humanities.
+
+"There was no need to earn his living--to earn his living," continued the
+monk, speaking slowly and carefully, and repeating the conclusion of his
+sentence, as if he were in the act of collating two manuscripts, "for
+Rodrigo was one of the wealthiest men in Portugal.  His son Lopez was
+rich, very rich in friends, and among them were numbered all to whom
+knowledge was dear.  Even among the Christians he had many friends.
+Among us--I mean in our library--he also obtained great respect.  I owe
+him many a hint, much aid; I mean in referring me to rare books, and
+explaining obscure passages.  When he no longer visited us, I missed him
+sorely.  I am not curious; or do you think I am?  I am not curious, but
+I could not help inquiring about him, and then I heard very bad things.
+Women are to blame for everything; of course it was a woman again.  A
+merchant from Flanders--a Christian--had settled in Porto.  The doctor's
+father visited his house; but you probably know all this?"
+
+"Of  course! of course!"  cried the magistrate.  "But go on with your
+story."
+
+"Old Doctor Rodrigo was the Netherlander's physician, and closed his
+eyes on the death-bed.  An orphan was left, a girl, who had not a single
+relative in Porto.  They said--I mean the young doctors and students who
+had seen her--that she was pleasing, very pleasing to the eye.  But it
+was not on that account, but because she was orphaned and desolate, that
+the physician took the child--I mean the girl."
+
+"And reared her as a Jewess?" interrupted the magistrate, with a
+questioning glance.
+
+"As a Jewess?" replied the monk, excitedly.  "Who says so?  He did
+nothing of the sort.  A Christian widow educated her in the physician's
+country-house, not in the city.  When the young doctor returned from
+Coimbra, he saw her there more than once--more than once; certainly,
+more often than was good for him.  The devil had a finger in the matter.
+I know, too, how they were married.  Before one Jew and two Christian
+witnesses, they plighted their troth to each other, and exchanged rings--
+rings as if it were a Christian ceremony, though he remained a Jew and
+she a Christian.  He intended to go to the Netherlands with her, but one
+of the witnesses betrayed them--denounced them to the Holy Inquisition.
+This soon interposed of course, for there it interferes with everything,
+and in this case it was necessary; nay more--a Christian duty.  The young
+wife was seized in the street with her attendant and thrown into prison;
+on the rack she entirely lost the power of speech.  The old physician and
+the doctor were warned in time, and kept closely concealed.  Through
+Chamberlain de Sa, her uncle--or was it only her cousin?--through de Sa
+the wife regained her liberty, and then I believe all three fled to
+France--the father, son and wife.  But no, they must have come here...."
+
+"There you have it!"  cried the magistrate, interrupting the monk, and
+glancing triumphantly at the prelate.  "An old practitioner scents crime,
+as a tree frog smells rain.  Now, for the first time, I can say with
+certainty: We have him, and the worst punishment is too little for his
+deserts.  There shall be an unparalleled execution, something wonderful,
+magnificent, grand!  You have given me important information, and I thank
+you, Father."
+
+"Then you knew nothing?"  faltered the librarian; and, raising his neck
+higher than usual, the vein in the centre of his forehead swelled with
+wrath.
+
+"No, Anselme!" said the abbot.  "But it was your duty to speak, as,
+unfortunately, it was mine to listen.  Come to me again, by and bye; I
+have something to say to you."
+
+The librarian bowed silently, coldly and proudly, and without vouchsafing
+the magistrate a single glance, went back, not to his books, but to his
+cell, where he paced up and down a long time, sorrowfully murmuring
+Lopez's name, striking himself on the mouth, pressing his clenched hand
+to his brow, and at last throwing himself on his knees to pray for the
+Jew, before the image of the crucified Redeemer.
+
+As soon as the monk had left the room, the magistrate exclaimed:
+
+"What unexpected aid!  What series of sins lie before us!  First the
+small ones.  He had never worn the Jews' badge, and allowed himself to
+be served by Christians, for Caspar's daughters were often at the
+House to help in sewing.  A sword was found in his dwelling, and the Jew,
+who carries weapons, renounces, since he uses self-protection, the aid of
+the authorities.  Finally, we know that Lopez used an assumed name.  Now
+we come to the great offences.  They are divided into four parts.  He has
+practised magic spells; he has sought to corrupt a Christian's son by
+heresies; he has led a Christian woman into a marriage; and he has--
+I close with the worst--he has reared the daughter of a Christian woman,
+I mean his wife, a Jewess!"
+
+"Reared his child a Jewess?  Do you know that positively?"  asked the
+abbot.
+
+"She bears the Jewish name of Ruth.  What I have taken the liberty to
+make prominent are well chosen, clearly-proved crimes, worthy of death.
+Your learning is great, Reverend Abbot, but I know the old writers, too.
+The Emperor Constantius made marriages between Jews and Christians
+punishable with death.  I can show you the passage."
+
+The abbot felt that the crime of which the Jew was accused was a heavy
+and unpardonable one, but he regarded only the sin, and it vexed him to
+see how the magistrate's zeal was exclusively turned against the unhappy
+criminal.  So he rose, saying with cold hauteur:
+
+"Then do your duty."
+
+"Rely upon it.  We shall capture him and his family to-morrow.  The town-
+clerk is full of zeal too.  We shall not be able to harm the child, but
+it must be taken from the Jew and receive a Christian education.  It
+would be our right to do this, even if both parents were Hebrews.  You
+know the Freiburg case.  No less a personage than the great Ulrich Zasius
+has decided, that Jewish children might be baptized without their
+father's knowledge.  I beg you to send Father Anselm to the town-hall
+on Saturday as a witness."
+
+"Very well," replied the prelate, but he spoke with so little eagerness,
+that it justly surprised the magistrate.  "Well then, catch the Jew; but
+take him alive.  And one thing more!  I wish to see and speak to the
+doctor, before you torture him."
+
+"I will bring him to you day after to-morrow."  The Nurembergers! the
+Nurembergers!...."  replied the abbot, shrugging his shoulders.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"They don't hang any one till they catch him."  The magistrate regarded
+these words as a challenge to put forth every effort for the Jew's
+capture, so he answered eagerly: "We shall have him, Your Reverence, we
+shall surely have him.  They are trapped in the snow.  The sergeants are
+searching the roads; I shall summon your foresters and mine, and put them
+under Count Frohlinger's command.  It is his duty to aid us.  What they
+cannot find with their attendants, squires, beaters and hounds, is not
+hidden in the forest.  Your blessing, Holy Father, there is no time to
+lose."
+
+The abbot was alone.
+
+He gazed thoughtfully at the coals in the fireplace, recalling everything
+he had just seen and heard, while his vivid power of imagination showed
+him the learned, unassuming man, who had spent long years in quiet
+seclusion, industriously devoting himself to the pursuit of knowledge.
+A slight feeling of envy stole into his heart; how rarely he himself was
+permitted to pursue undisturbed, and without interruption, the scientific
+subjects, in which alone he found pleasure.
+
+He was vexed with himself, that he could feel so little anger against a
+criminal, whose guilt was deserving of death, and reproached himself for
+lukewarmness.  Then he remembered that the Jew had sinned for love, and
+that to him who has loved much, much should be forgiven.  Finally, it
+seemed a great boon, that he was soon to be permitted to make the
+acquaintance of the worthy doctor from Coimbra.  Never had the zealous
+magistrate appeared so repulsive as to-day, and when he remembered how
+the crafty man had outwitted poor Father Anselm in his presence, he felt
+as if he had himself committed an unworthy deed.  And yet, yet--the Jew
+could not be saved, and had deserved what threatened him.
+
+A monk summoned him, but the abbot did not wish to be disturbed, and
+ordered that he should be left an hour alone.
+
+He now took in his hand a volume he called the mirror of his soul, and in
+which he noted many things "for the confession," that he desired to
+determine to his own satisfaction.  To-day he wrote:
+
+"It would be a duty to hate a Jew and criminal, zealously to persecute
+what Holy Church has condemned.  Yet I cannot do so.  Who is the
+magistrate, and what are Father Anselm and this learned doctor!  The one
+narrow-minded, only familiar with the little world he knows and in which
+he lives, the others divinely-gifted, full of knowledge, rulers in the
+wide domain of thought.  And the former outwits the latter, who show
+themselves children in comparison with him.  How Anselm stood before him!
+The deceived child was great, the clever man small.  What men call
+cleverness is only small-minded persons' skill in life; simplicity is
+peculiar to the truly great man, because petty affairs are too small for
+him, and his eye does not count the grains of dust, but looks upward, and
+has a share in the infinitude stretching before us.  Jesus Christ was
+gentle as a child and loved children, he was the Son of God, yet
+voluntarily yielded himself into the hands of men.  The greatest of great
+men did not belong to the ranks of the clever.  Blessed are the meek, He
+said.  I understand those words.  He is meek, whose soul is open, clear
+and pure as a mirror, and the greatest philosophers, the noblest minds I
+have met in life and history were also meek.  The brute is clever; wisdom
+is the cleverness of the noble-minded.  We must all follow the Saviour,
+and he among us, who unites wisdom to meekness, will come nearest to the
+Redeemer."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+Marx had gone out to reconnoitre in a more cheerful mood, for the doctor
+had made good the loss sustained in the death of his old nag, and he
+returned at noon with good news.
+
+A wood-carrier, whom he met on the high-road, had told him where Jorg,
+the charcoal-burner, lived.
+
+The fugitives could reach his hut before night, and in so doing approach
+nearer the Rhine valley.  Everything was ready for departure, but old
+Rahel objected to travelling further.  She was sitting on a stone before
+the hut, for the smoke in the narrow room oppressed her breathing, and it
+seemed as if terror had robbed her of her senses.  Gazing into vacancy
+with wild eyes and chattering teeth, she tried to make cakes and mould
+dumplings out of the snow, which she probably took for flour.  She
+neither heard the doctor's call nor saw his wife beckon, and when the
+former grasped her to compel her to rise, uttered a loud shriek.  At last
+the smith succeeded in persuading her to sit down on the sledge, and the
+party moved forward.
+
+Adam had harnessed himself to the front of the vehicle.  Marx went to and
+fro, pushing when necessary.  The dumb woman waded through the snow by
+her husband's side.  "Poor wife!"  he said once; but she pressed his arm
+closer, looking up into his eyes as if she wished to say: "Surely I shall
+lack nothing, if only you are spared to me!"
+
+She enjoyed his presence as if it were a favor granted by destiny, but
+only at chance moments, for she could not banish her fear for him, and
+of the pursuers--her dread of uncertainty and wandering.
+
+If snow rattled from a pine-tree, if she noticed Lopez turn his head, or
+if old Rahel uttered a moan, she shuddered; and this was not unperceived
+by her husband, who told himself that she had every reason to look
+forward to the next few hours with grave anxiety.  Each moment might
+bring imprisonment to him and all, and if they discovered--if it were
+disclosed who he, who Elizabeth was.  .  .  .
+
+Ulrich and Ruth brought up the rear, saying little to each other.
+
+At first the path ascended again, then led down to the valley.  It had
+stopped snowing long before, and the farther they went the lighter the
+drifts became.
+
+They had journeyed in this way for two hours, when Ruth's strength
+failed, and she stood still with tearful, imploring eyes.  The charcoal-
+burner saw it, and growled:
+
+"Come  here, little  girl;  I'll carry you to the sleigh."
+
+"No, let me," Ulrich eagerly interposed.  And Ruth exclaimed:
+
+"Yes, you, you shall carry me."
+
+Marx grasped her around the waist, lifted her high into the air, and
+placed her in the boy's arms.  She clasped her hands around his neck, and
+as he walked on pressed her fresh, cool cheek to his.  It pleased him,
+and the thought entered his mind that he had been parted from her a long
+time, and it was delightful to have her again.
+
+His heart swelled more and more; he felt that he would rather have Ruth
+than everything else in the world, and he drew her towards him as closely
+as if an invisible hand were already out-stretched to take her from him.
+
+To-day her dear, delicate little face was not pale, but glowed crimson
+after the long walk through the frosty, winter air.  She was glad to have
+Ulrich clasp her so firmly, so she pressed her cheek closer to his,
+loosened her fingers from his neck, caressingly stroked his face with her
+cold hand, and murmured:
+
+"You are kind, Ulrich, and I love you!"
+
+It sounded so tender and loving, that Ulrich's heart melted, for no one
+had spoken to him so since his mother went away.
+
+He felt strong and joyous, Ruth did not seem at all heavy, and when she
+again clasped her hands around his neck, he said: "I should like to carry
+you so always."
+
+Ruth only nodded, as if the wish pleased her, but he continued:
+
+"In the monastery I had no one, who was very kind to me, for even Lips,
+well, he was a count--everybody is kind to you.  You don't know what it
+is, to be all alone, and have to struggle against every one.  When I was
+in the monastery, I often wished that I was lying under the earth; now I
+don't want to die, and we will stay with you--father told me so--and
+everything will be just as it was, and I shall learn no more Latin, but
+become a painter, or smith-artificer, or anything else, for aught I care,
+if I'm only not obliged to leave you again."
+
+He felt Ruth raise her little head, and press her soft lips on his
+forehead just over his eyes; then he lowered the arms in which she
+rested, kissed her mouth, and said: "Now it seems as if I had my mother
+back again!"
+
+"Does it?"  she asked, with sparkling eyes.  "Now put me down.  I am well
+again, and want to run."
+
+So saying, she slipped to the ground, and he did not detain her.
+
+Ruth now walked stoutly on beside the lad, and made him tell her about
+the bad boys in the monastery, Count Lips, the pictures, the monks, and
+his own flight, until, just as it grew dark, they reached the goal of
+their walk.
+
+Jorg, the charcoal-burner, received them, and opened his hut, but only to
+go away himself, for though willing to give the fugitives shelter and act
+against the authorities, he did not wish to be present, if the refugees
+should be caught.  Caught with them, hung with them!  He knew the
+proverb, and went down to the village, with the florins Adam gave him.
+
+There was a hearth for cooking in the hut, and two rooms, one large and
+one small, for in summer the charcoal-burners' wives and children live
+with them.  The travellers needed rest and refreshment, and might have
+found both here, had not fear embittered the food and driven sleep from
+their weary eyes.
+
+Jorg was to return early the next morning with a team of horses.  This
+was a great consolation.  Old Rahel, too, had regained her self-control,
+and was sound asleep.
+
+The children followed her example, and at midnight Elizabeth slept too.
+
+Marx lay beside the hearth, and from his crooked mouth came a strange,
+snoring noise, that sounded like the last note of an organ-pipe, from
+which the air is expiring.
+
+Hours after all the others were asleep, Adam and the doctor still sat on
+a sack of straw, engaged in earnest conversation.
+
+Lopez had told his friend the story of his happiness and sorrow, closing
+with the words:
+
+"So you know who we are, and why we left our home.  You are giving me
+your future, together with many other things; no gift can repay you; but
+first of all, it was due you that you should know my past."
+
+Then, holding out his hand to the smith, he asked: "You are a Christian;
+will you still cleave to me, after what you have heard?"
+
+Adam silently pressed the Jew's right hand, and after remaining lost in
+thought for a time, said in a hollow tone:
+
+"If they catch you, and--Holy Virgin--if they discover.....Ruth....She
+is not really a Jew's child.....have you reared her as a Jewess?"
+
+"No; only as a good human child."
+
+"Is she baptized?"
+
+Lopez answered this question also in the negative.  The smith shook his
+head disapprovingly, but the doctor said: "She knows more about Jesus,
+than many a Christian child of her age.  When she is grown up, she will
+be free to follow either her mother or her father."
+
+"Why have you not become a Christian yourself?  Forgive the question.
+Surely you are one at heart."
+
+"That, that....you see, there are things....Suppose that every male scion
+of your family, from generation to generation, for many hundred years,
+had been a smith, and now a boy should grow up, who said: I--I despise
+your trade?'"
+
+"If Ulrich should say: 'I-I wish to be an artist;' it would be agreeable
+to me."
+
+"Even if smiths were persecuted like us Jews, and he ran from your guild
+to another out of fear?"
+
+"No--that would be base, and can scarcely be compared with your case;
+for see--you are acquainted with everything, even what is called
+Christianity; nay, the Saviour is dear to you; you have already told me
+so.  Well then!  Suppose you were a foundling and were shown our faith
+and yours, and asked for which you would decide, which would you choose?"
+
+"We pray for life and peace, and where peace exists, love cannot be
+lacking, and yet!  Perhaps I might decide for yours."
+
+"There you have it."
+
+"No, no!  We have not done with this question so speedily.  See, I do not
+grudge you your faith, nor do I wish to disturb it.  The child must
+believe, that all its parents do and require of him is right, but the
+stranger sees with different, keener eyes, than the son and daughter.
+You occupy a filial relation towards your Church--I do not.  I know the
+doctrine of Jesus Christ, and if I had lived in Palestine in his time,
+should have been one of the first to follow the Master, but since, from
+those days to the present, much human work has mingled with his sublime
+teachings.  This too must be dear to you, for it belongs to your parents-
+-but it repels me.  I have lived, labored and watched all night for the
+truth, and were I now to come before the baptismal font and say 'yes' to
+everything the priests ask, I should be a liar."
+
+"They have caused you bitter suffering; tortured your wife, driven you
+and your family from your home....."
+
+"I have borne all that patiently," cried the doctor, deeply moved.
+"But there are many other sins now committed against me and mine, for
+which there is no forgiveness.  I know the great Pagans and their works.
+Their need of love extends only to the nation, to which they belong, not
+to humanity.  Unselfish justice, is to them the last thing man owes his
+fellow-man.  Christ extended love to all nations, His heart was large
+enough to love all mankind.  Human love, the purest and fairest of
+virtues, is the sublime gift, the noble heritage, he left behind to his
+brothers in sorrow.  My heart, the poor heart under this black doublet,
+this heart was created for human love, this soul thirsted, with all its
+powers, to help its neighbors and lighten their sorrows.  To exercise
+human love is to be good, but they no longer know it, and what is worse,
+a thousand times worse, they constantly destroy in me and mine the desire
+to be good, good in the sense of their own Master.  Wordly wealth is
+trash--to be rich the poorest happiness.  Yet the Jew is not forbidden to
+strive for this, they take scarcely half his gains;--nor can they deny
+him the pursuit of the pleasures of the intellect--pure knowledge--for
+our minds are not feebler or more idle, and soar no less boldly than
+theirs.  The prophets came from the East!  But the happiness of the soul
+--the right to exercise charity is denied to us.  It is a part of charity
+for each man to regard his neighbor as himself--to feel for him, as it
+were, with his own heart--to lighten his burdens, minister unto him in
+his sorrows, and to gladden his happiness.  This the Christian denies the
+Jew.  Your love ceases when you meet me and mine, and if I sought to put
+myself on an equality with the Christian, from the pure desire to satisfy
+his Master's most beautiful lesson, what would be my fate?  The Jew is
+not permitted to be good.  Not to be good!  Whoever imposes that upon his
+brother, commits a sin for which I know no forgiveness.  And if Jesus
+Christ should return to earth and see the pack that hunts us, surely He,
+who was human love incarnate, would open His arms wide, wide to us, and
+ask: 'Who are these apostles of hate?  I know them not!'"
+
+The doctor paused, for the door had opened, and he rose with flushed face
+to look into the adjoining room; but the smith held him back, saying:
+
+"Stay, stay!  Marx went out into the open air.  Ah, Sir!  no doubt your
+words are true, but were they Jews who crucified the Saviour?"
+
+"And this crime is daily avenged," replied Lopez.  "How many wicked, how
+many low souls, who basely squander divine gifts to obtain worthless
+pelf, there are among my people!  More than half of them are stripped of
+honor and dignity on your altar of vengeance, and thrust into the arms of
+repulsive avarice.  And this, all this....But enough of these things!
+They rouse my inmost soul to wrath, and I have other matters to discuss
+with you."
+
+The scholar now began to speak to the smith, like a dying man, about the
+future of his family, told him where he had concealed his small property,
+and did not hide the fact, that his marriage had not only drawn upon him
+the persecution of the Christians, but the curse of his co-religionists.
+He took it upon himself to provide for Ulrich, as if he were his own
+child, should any misfortune befall the smith; and Adam promised, if he
+remained alive and at liberty, to do the same for the doctor's wife and
+daughter.
+
+Meantime, a conversation of a very different nature was held before the
+hut.
+
+The poacher was sitting by the fire, when the door opened, and his name
+was called.  He turned in alarm, but soon regained his composure, for it
+was Jorg who beckoned, and then drew him into the forest.
+
+Marx expected no good news, yet he started when his companion said:
+
+"I know now, who the man is you have brought.  He's a Jew.  Don't try to
+humbug me.  The constable from the city has come to the village.  The
+man, who captures the Israelite, will get fifteen florins.  Fifteen
+florins, good money.  The magistrate will count it, all on one board, and
+the vicar says...."
+
+"I don't care much for your priests," replied Marx.  "I am from
+Weinsberg, and have found the Jew a worthy man.  No one shall touch him."
+
+"A Jew, and a good man!"  cried Jurg, laughing.  "If you won't help, so
+much the worse for you.  You'll risk your neck, and the fifteen florins.
+....Will you go shares?  Yes or no?"
+
+"Heaven's thunder!"  murmured the poacher, his crooked mouth watering."
+How much is half of fifteen florins?"
+
+"About seven, I should say."
+
+"A calf and a pig."
+
+"A swine for the Jew, that will suit.  You'll keep him here in the trap."
+
+"I can't, Jorg; by my soul, I can't!  Let me alone!"
+
+"Very well, for aught I care; but the legal gentlemen.  The gallows has
+waited for you long enough!"
+
+"I can't; I can't.  I've been an honest man all my life, and the smith
+Adam and his dead father have shown me many a kindness."
+
+"Who means the smith any harm?"
+
+"The receiver is as bad as the thief.  If they catch him...."
+
+"He'll be put in the stocks for a week.  That's the worst that can befall
+him."
+
+"No, no.  Let me alone,--or I'll tell Adam what you're plotting...."
+
+"Then I'll denounce you first, you gallows' fruit, you rogue, you
+poacher.  They've suspected you a long time!  Will you change your mind
+now, you blockhead?"
+
+"Yes, yes; but Ulrich is here too, and the boy is as dear to me as my own
+child."
+
+"I'll come here later, say that no vehicle can be had, and take him away
+with me.  When it's all over, I'll let him go."
+
+"Then  I'll keep him.  He already helps me as much, as if he were a grown
+man.  Oh, dear, dear!  The Jew, the gentle man, and the poor women, and
+the little girl, Ruth...."
+
+"Big Jews and little Jews, nothing more.  You've told me yourself, how
+the Hebrews were persecuted in your dead father's day.  So we'll go
+shares.  There's a light in the room still.  You'll detain them.  Count
+Frohlinger has been at his hunting-box since last evening....If they
+insist on moving forward, guide them to the village."
+
+"And I've been an honest man all my life," whined the poacher, and then
+continued, threateningly: "If you harm a hair on Ulrich's head...."
+
+"Fool that you are!  I'll willingly leave the big feeder to you.  Go in
+now, then I'll come and fetch the boy.  There's money at stake--fifteen
+florins!"  Fifteen minutes after, Jorg entered the but.
+
+The smith and the doctor believed the charcoal-burner, when he told them
+that all the vehicles in the village were in use, but he would find one
+elsewhere.  They must let the boy go with him, to enquire at the farm-
+houses in another village.  Somebody would doubtless be found to risk his
+horses.  The lad looked like a young nobleman, and the peasants would
+take earnest-money from him.  If he, Jorg, should show them florins, it
+would get him into a fine scrape.  The people knew he was as poor as a
+beggar.
+
+The smith asked the poacher's opinion, and the latter growled:
+
+"That will, doubtless, be a good plan."
+
+He said no more, and when Adam held out his hand to the boy, and kissed
+him on the forehead, and the doctor bade him an affectionate farewell,
+Marx called himself a Judas, and would gladly have flung the tempting
+florins to the four winds, but it was too late.
+
+The smith and Lopez heard him call anxiously to Jorg: "Take good care of
+the boy!"  And when Adam patted him on the shoulder, saying: "You are a
+faithful fellow, Marx!"  he could have howled like a mastiff and revealed
+all; but it seemed as if he again felt the rope around his neck, so he
+kept silence.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+The grey dawn was already glimmering, yet neither the expected vehicle
+nor Jorg had come.  Old Rahel, usually an early riser, was sleeping as
+soundly as if she had to make up the lost slumber of ten nights; but the
+smith's anxiety would no longer allow him to remain in the close room.
+Ruth followed him into the open air, and when she timidly touched him--
+for there had always been something unapproachable to her in the silent
+man's gigantic figure--he looked at her from head to foot, with strange,
+questioning sympathy, and then asked suddenly, with a haste unusual to
+him.
+
+"Has your father told you about Jesus Christ?"
+
+"Often!"  replied Ruth.
+
+"And do you love Him?"
+
+"Dearly.  Father says He loved all children, and called them to Him."
+
+"Of course, of course!"  replied the smith, blushing with shame for his
+own distrust.
+
+The doctor did not follow the others, and as soon as his wife saw that
+they were alone, she beckoned to him.
+
+Lopez sat down on the couch beside her, and took her hand.  The slender
+fingers trembled in his clasp, and when, with loving anxiety, he drew her
+towards him, he felt the tremor of her delicate limbs, while her eyes
+expressed bitter suffering and terrible dread.
+
+"Are you afraid?"  he asked, tenderly.
+
+Elizabeth shuddered, threw her arms passionately around his neck, and
+nodded assent.
+
+"The wagon will convey us to the Rhine Valley, please God, this very day,
+and there we shall be safe," he continued, soothingly.  But she shook her
+head, her features assuming an expression of indifference and contempt.
+Lopez understood how to read their meaning, and asked: "So it is not the
+bailiffs you fear; something else is troubling you?"
+
+She nodded again, this time still more eagerly, drew out the crucifix,
+which she had hitherto kept concealed under her coverlid, showed it to
+him, then pointed upward towards heaven, lastly to herself and him, and
+shrugged her shoulders with an air of deep, mournful renunciation.
+
+"You are thinking of the other world," said Lopez; then, fixing his eyes
+on the ground, he continued, in a lower tone: "I know you are tortured by
+the fear of not meeting me there."
+
+"Yes," she gasped, with a great effort, pressing her forehead against his
+shoulder.
+
+A hot tear fell on the doctor's hand, and he felt as if his own heart was
+weeping with his beloved, anxious wife.
+
+He knew that this thought had often poisoned her life and, full of tender
+sympathy, turned her beautiful face towards him and pressed a long kiss
+on her closed eyes, then said, tenderly:
+
+"You are mine, I am yours, and if there is a life beyond the grave, and
+an eternal justice, the dumb will speak as they desire, and sing wondrous
+songs with the angels; the sorrowful will again be happy there.  We will
+hope, we will both hope!  Do you remember how I read Dante aloud to you,
+and tried to explain his divine creation, as we sat on the bench by the
+fig-tree.  The sea roared below us, and our hearts swelled higher than
+its storm-lashed waves.  How soft was the air, how bright the sunshine!
+This earth seemed doubly beautiful to you and me as, led by the hand of
+the divine seer and singer, we descended shuddering to the nether world.
+There the good and noble men of ancient times walked in a flowery meadow,
+and among them the poet beheld in solitary grandeur--do you still
+remember how the passage runs?  'E solo in parte vidi 'l Saladino.'
+Among them he also saw the Moslem Saladin, the conqueror of the
+Christians.  If any one possessed the key of the mysteries of the other
+world, Elizabeth, it was Dante.  He assigned a lofty place to the pagan,
+who was a true man--a man with a pure mind, a zeal for goodness and
+right, and I think I shall have a place there too.  Courage, Elizabeth,
+courage!"
+
+A beautiful smile had illumined the wife's features, while she was
+reminded of the happiest hours of her life, but when he paused, gazed
+into her eyes, and clasped her right hand in his, she was seized with an
+intense longing to pray once, only once, with him to the Saviour so,
+drawing her fingers from his, she pressed the image of the Crucified One
+to her breast with her left hand, pleading with mute motions of her lips,
+inteligible to him alone, and with ardent entreaty in her large, tearful
+eyes: "Pray, pray with me, pray to the saviour."
+
+Lopez was greatly agitated; his heart beat faster, and a strong impulse
+urged him to start up, cry "no," and not allow himself to be moved, by an
+affectionate meakness, into bowing his manly soul before one, who, to
+him, was no more than human.
+
+The noble figure of the crucified Saviour, carved by an artist's hand in
+ivory, hung from an ebony cross, and he thrust the image back, intending
+to turn proudly way, he gazed at the face and found there only pain,
+quiet endurance, and touching sorrow.  Ah, his own heart had often bled,
+as the pure brow of this poor, persecuted, tortured saint bled beneath
+its crown of thorns.  To defy this silent companion in suffering, was no
+manly deed--to pay homage, out of love, to Him, who had brought love into
+the world, seemed to possess a sweet, ensnaring charm--so he clasped his
+slender hands closely round his dumb wife's fingers, pressed his dark
+curls gainst Elizabeth's fair hair, and both, for the first and last
+time, repeated together a mute, fervent prayer.
+
+Before the hut, and surrounded by the forest, was a large clearing, where
+two roads crossed.
+
+Adam, Marx and Ruth had gazed first down one and then the other, to look
+for the wagon, but nothing was to be seen or heard.  As, with increasing
+anxiety, they turned back to the first path, the poacher grew restless.
+His crooked mouth twisted to and fro in strange contortions, not a muscle
+of his coarse face was till, and this looked so odd and yet so horrible,
+that Ruth could not help laughing, and the smith asked what ailed him.
+
+Marx made no reply; his ear had caught the distant bay of a dog, and he
+knew what the sound meant.  Work at the anvil impairs the hearing, and
+the smith did not notice the approaching peril, and repeated: "What ails
+you, man?"
+
+"I am freezing," replied the charcoal-burner, cowering, with a piteous
+expression.
+
+Ruth heard no more of the conversation, she had stopped and put her hand
+to her ear, listening with head bent forward, to the noises in the
+distance.
+
+Suddenly she uttered a low cry, exclaiming: "There's a dog barking,
+Meister Adam, I hear it."
+
+The smith turned pale and shook his head, but she cried earnestly:
+"Believe me; I hear it.  Now it's barking again."
+
+Adam too, now heard a strange noise in the forest.  With lightning speed
+he loosened the hammer in his belt, took Ruth by the hand, and ran up the
+clearing with her.
+
+Meantime, Lopez had compelled old Rahel to rise.
+
+Everything must be ready, when Ulrich returned.  In his impatience he had
+gone to the door, and when he saw Adam hurrying up the glade with the
+child, ran anxiously to meet them, thinking that some accident had
+happened to Ulrich.
+
+"Back, back!" shouted the smith, and Ruth, releasing her hand from his,
+also motioned and shrieked "Back, back!"
+
+The doctor obeyed the warning, and stopped; but he had scarcely turned,
+when several dogs appeared at the mouth of the ravine through which the
+party had come the day before, and directly after Count Frohlinger, on
+horseback, burst from the thicket.
+
+The nobleman sat throned on his spirited charger, like the sun-god
+Siegfried.  His fair locks floated dishevelled around his head, the steam
+rising from the dripping steed hovered about him in the fresh winter air
+like a light cloud.  He had opened and raised his arms, and holding the
+reins in his left hand, swung his hunting spear with the right.  On
+perceiving Lopez, a clear, joyous, exultant "Hallo, Halali!"  rang from
+his bearded lips.
+
+To-day Count Frohlinger was not hunting the stag, but special game, a
+Jew.
+
+The chase led to the right cover, and how well the hounds had done, how
+stoutly Emir, his swift hunter, had followed.
+
+This was a morning's work indeed!
+
+"Hallo, Halali!" he shouted exultingly again, and ere the fugitives had
+escaped from the clearing, reached the doctor's side, exclaiming:
+
+"Here is my game; to your knees, Jew!"
+
+The count had far outstripped his attendants, and was entirely alone.
+
+As Lopez stood still with folded arms, paying no heed to his command, he
+turned the spear, to strike him with the handle.
+
+Then, for the first time in many years, the old fury awoke in Adam's
+heart; and rushing upon the count like a tiger, he threw his powerful
+arms around his waist, and ere he was aware of the attack, hurled him
+from his horse, set his knee on his breast, snatched the hammer from his
+belt, and with a mighty blow struck the dog that attacked him, to the
+earth.  Then he again swung the iron, to crush the head of his hated foe.
+But Lopez would not accept deliverance at such a price, and cried in a
+tone of passionate entreaty:
+
+"Let him go, Adam, spare him."
+
+As he spoke, he clung to the smith's arm, and when the latter tried to
+release himself from his grasp, said earnestly:
+
+"We will not follow their example!"
+
+Again the hammer whizzed high in the air, and again the Jew clung to the
+smith's arm, this time exclaiming imperiously:
+
+"Spare him, if you are my friend!"
+
+What was his strength in comparison with Adam's?  Yet as the hammer rose
+for the third time, he again strove to prevent the terrible deed, seizing
+the infuriated man's wrist, and gasping, as in the struggle he fell on
+his knees beside the count: "Think of Ulrich!  This man's son was the
+only one, the only one in the whole monastery, who stood by Ulrich, your
+child--in the monastery--he was--his friend--among so many.  Spare him--
+Ulrich!  For Ulrich's sake, spare him!"
+
+During this struggle the smith had held the count down with his left
+hand, and defended himself against Lopez with the right.
+
+One jerk, and the hand upraised for murder was free again--but he did not
+use it.  His friend's last words had paralyzed him.
+
+"Take it," he said in a hollow tone, giving the hammer to the doctor.
+
+The latter seized it, and rising joyously, laid his hand on the shoulder
+of the smith, who was still kneeling on the count's breast, and said
+beseechingly: "Let that suffice.  The man is only...."
+
+He went no farther--a gurgling, piercing cry of pain escaped his lips,
+and pressing one hand to his breast, and the other to his brow, he sank
+on the snow beside the stump of a giant pine.
+
+A squire dashed from the forest--the archer, to whom this noble quarry
+had fallen a victim, appeared in the clearing, holding aloft the cross-
+bow from which he had sent the bolt.  His arrow was fixed in the doctor's
+breast; alas, the man had only sent the shaft, to save his fallen master
+from the hammer in the Jew's hand.
+
+Count Frohlinger rose, struggling for breath; his hand sought his
+hunting-knife, but in the fall it had slipped from its sheath and was
+lying in the snow.
+
+Adam supported his dying friend in his arms, Ruth ran weeping to the hut,
+and before the nobleman had fully collected his thoughts, the squire
+reached his side, and young Count Lips, riding a swift bay-horse, dashed
+from the forest, closely followed by three mounted huntsmen.
+
+When the attendants saw their master on foot, they too sprang from their
+saddles, Lips did the same, and an eager interchange of question and
+answer began among them.
+
+The nobleman scarcely noticed his son, but greeted with angry words the
+man who had shot the Jew.  Then, deeply excited, he hoarsely ordered his
+attendants to bind the smith, who made no resistance, but submitted to
+everything like a patient child.
+
+Lopez no longer needed his arms.
+
+The dumb wife sat on the stump, with her dying husband resting on her
+lap.  She had thrown her arms around the bleeding form, and the feet hung
+limply down, touching the snow.
+
+Ruth, sobbing bitterly, crouched on the ground by her mother's side, and
+old Rahel, who had entirely regained her self-control, pressed a cloth,
+wet with wine, on his forehead.
+
+The young count approached the dying Jew.  His father slowly followed,
+drew the boy to his side, and said in a low, sad tone:
+
+"I am sorry for the man; he saved my life."
+
+The wounded man opened his eyes, saw Count Frohlinger, his son and the
+fettered smith, felt his wife's tears on his brow, and heard Ruth's
+agonized weeping.  A gentle smile hovered around his pale lips, and when
+he tried to raise his head Elizabeth helped him, pressing it gently to
+her breast.
+
+The feeble lips moved and Lopez raised his eyes to her face, as if to
+thank her, saying in a low voice: "The arrow--don't touch it....
+Elizabeth--Ruth, we have clung together faithfully, but now--I shall
+leave you alone, I must leave you."  He paused, a shadow clouded his
+eyes, and the lids slowly fell.  But he soon raised them again, and
+fixing his glance steadily on the count, said:
+
+"Hear me, my Lord; a dying man should be heard, even if he is a Jew.  See!
+This is my wife, and this my child.  They are Christians.  They will soon
+be alone in the world, deserted, orphaned.  The smith is their only
+friend.  Set him free; they--they, they will need a protector.  My wife
+is dumb, dumb....alone in the world.  She can neither beseech nor demand.
+Set Adam free, for the sake of your Saviour, your son, free--yes, free.
+A wide, wide space must be between you; he must go away with them, far
+away.  Set him free!  I held his arm with the hammer....  You know--with
+the hammer.  Set him free.  My death--death atones for everything."
+
+Again his voice failed, and the count, deeply moved, looked irresolutely
+now at him, now at the smith.  Lips's eyes filled with tears; and as he
+saw his father delay in fulfilling the dying man's last wish, and a
+glance from the dim eyes met his, he pressed closer to the noble, who
+stood struggling with many contending emotions, and whispered, weeping:
+
+"My Lord and Father, my Lord and Father, tomorrow will be Christmas.
+For Christ's sake, for love of me, grant his request: release Ulrich's
+father, set him free!  Do so, my noble Father; I want no other Christmas
+gift."
+
+Count Frohlinger's heart also overflowed, and when, raising his tear-
+dimmed eyes, he saw Elizabeth's deep grief stamped on her gentle
+features, and beheld reclining on her breast, the mild, beautiful face of
+the dying man, it seemed as if he saw before him the sorrowful Mother of
+God--and to-morrow would be Christmas.  Wounded pride was silent, he
+forgot the insult he had sustained, and cried in a voice as loud, as if
+he wished every word to reach the ear now growing dull in death:
+
+"I thank you for your aid, man.  Adam is free, and may go with your wife
+and child wherever he lists.  My word upon it; you can close your eyes in
+peace!"
+
+Lopez smiled again, raised his hand as if in gratitude, then let it fall
+upon his child's head, gazed lovingly at Ruth for the last time, and
+murmured in a low tone "Lift my head a little higher, Elizabeth."  When
+she had obeyed his wish, he gazed earnestly into her face, whispered
+softly: "A dreamless sleep--reanimated to new forms in the endless
+circle.  No!--Do you see, do you hear....Solo in parte'....with you
+....with you....Oh, oh!--the arrow--draw the arrow from the wound.
+Elizabeth, Elizabeth--it aches.  Well--well--how miserable we were, and
+yet, yet....You--you--I--we--we know, what happiness is.  You--I....
+Forgive me!  I forgive, forgive...."
+
+The dying man's hand fell from his child's head, his eyes closed, but the
+pleasant smile with which he had perished, hovered around his lips, even
+in death.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+Count Frohlinger added a low "amen" to the last words of the dying man,
+then approached the widow, and in the kindly, cordial manner natural to
+him, strove to comfort her.
+
+Finally he ordered his men, to loose the smith's bonds, and instantly
+guide him to the frontier with the woman and child.  He also spoke to
+Adam, but said only a few words, not cheery ones as usual, but grave and
+harsh in purport.
+
+They were a command to leave the country without delay, and never return
+to his home again.
+
+The Jew's corpse was laid on a bier formed of pine, branches, and the
+bearers lifted it on their shoulders.  Ruth clung closely to her mother,
+both trembling like leaves in the wind, while he who was dearest to
+them on earth was borne away, but only the child could weep.
+
+The men, whom Count Frohlinger had left behind as a guard, waited
+patiently with the smith for his son's return until noon, then they urged
+departure, and the party moved forward.
+
+Not a word was spoken, till the, travellers stopped before the charcoal-
+burner's house.
+
+Jorg was in the city, but his wife said that the boy had been there, and
+had gone back to the forest an hour before.  The tavern could accommodate
+a great many people, she added, and they could wait for him there.
+
+The fugitives followed this advice, and after Adam had seen the women
+provided with shelter, he again sought the scene of the misfortune, and
+waited there for the boy until night.
+
+Beside the stump on which his friend had died, he prayed long and
+earnestly, vowing to his dead preserver to live henceforth solely for his
+family.  Unbroken stillness surrounded him, it seemed as if he were in
+church, and every tree in the forest was a witness of the oath he swore.
+
+The next morning the smith again sought the charcoal-burner, and this
+time found him.  Jorg laid the blame to Ulrich's impatience, but promised
+to go to Marx in search of him and bring him to the smith.  The men
+composing the escort urged haste, so Adam went on without Ulrich towards
+the north-west, to the valley of the Rhine.
+
+The charcoal-burner had lost the reward offered the informer, and could
+not even earn the money due a messenger.
+
+He had lured Ulrich to the attic and locked him in there, but during his
+absence the boy escaped.  He was a nimble fellow, for he had risked the
+leap from the window, and then swung himself over the fence into the
+road.
+
+Jorg's conjecture did not deceive him, for as soon as Ulrich perceived
+that he had been betrayed into a trap, he had leaped into the open air.
+
+He must warn his friends, and anxiety for them winged his feet.
+
+Once and again he lost his way, but at last found the right path, though
+he had wasted many hours, first in the village, then behind the locked
+door, and finally in searching for the right road.
+
+The sun had already passed the meridian, when he at last reached the
+clearing.
+
+The but was deserted; no one answered his loud, anxious shouts.
+
+Where had they gone?
+
+He searched the wide, snow-covered expanse for traces, and found only too
+many.  Here horses' hoofs, there large and small feet had pressed the
+snow, yonder hounds had run, and--Great Heaven!--here, by the tree-stump,
+red blood stained the glimmering white ground.
+
+His breath failed, but he did not cease to search, look, examine.
+
+Yonder, where for the length of a man the snow had vanished and grass and
+brown earth appeared, people had fought together, and there--Holy Virgin!
+What was this!--there lay his father's hammer.  He knew it only too well;
+it was the smaller one, which to distinguish it from the two larger
+tools, Goliath and Samson, he called David-the boy had swung it
+a hundred times himself.
+
+His heart stood still, and when he found some freshly-hewn pine-boughs,
+and a fir-trunk that had been rejected by one of the men, he said to
+himself: "The bier was made here," and his vivid imagination showed him
+his father fighting, struck down, and then a mournful funeral procession.
+Exulting bailiffs bore a tall strong-limbed corpse, and a slender, black-
+robed body, his father and his teacher.  Then came the quiet, beautiful
+wife and Ruth in bonds, and behind them Marx and Rahel.  He distinctly
+saw all this; it even seemed as if he heard the sobs of the women, and
+wailing bitterly, he thrust his hands in his floating locks and ran to
+and fro.  Suddenly he thought that the troopers would return to seize him
+also.  Away, away! anywhere--away!  a voice roared and buzzed in his
+ears, and he set out on a run towards the south, always towards the
+south.
+
+The boy had not eaten a mouthful, since the oatmeal porridge obtained at
+the charcoal-burner's, in the morning, but felt neither hunger nor
+thirst, and dashed on and on without heeding the way.
+
+Long after his father had left the clearing for the second time, he still
+ran on--but gasping for breath while his steps grew slower and shorter.
+The moon rose, one star after another revealed its light, yet he still
+struggled forward.
+
+The forest lay behind him; he had reached a broad road, which he followed
+southward, always southward, till his strength utterly failed.  His head
+and hands were burning like fire, yet it was very, very cold; but little
+snow lay here in the valley, and in many places the moonlight showed
+patches of bare, dark turf.
+
+Grief was forgotten.  Fatigue, anxiety and hunger completely engrossed
+the boy's mind.  He felt tempted to throw himself down in the road and
+sleep, but remembered the frozen people of whom he had heard, and dragged
+himself on to the nearest village.  The lights had long been
+extinguished; as he approached, dogs barked in the yards, and the
+melancholy lowing of a cow echoed from many a stable.  He was again among
+human beings; the thought exerted a soothing influence; he regained his
+self-control, and sought a shelter for the night.
+
+At the end of the village stood a barn, and Ulrich noticed by the
+moonlight an open hatchway in the wall.  If he could climb up to it!  The
+framework offered some support for fingers and toes, so he resolved to
+try it.
+
+Several times, when Half-way up, he slipped to the ground, but at last
+reached the top, and found a bed in the soft hay under a sheltering roof.
+Surrounded by the fragrance of the dried grasses, he soon fell asleep,
+and in a dream saw amidst various confused and repulsive shapes, first
+his father with a bleeding wound in his broad chest, and then the doctor,
+dancing with old Rahel.  Last of all Ruth appeared; she led him into the
+forest to a juniper-bush, and showed him a nest full of young birds.  But
+the half-naked creatures vexed him, and he trampled them under foot, over
+which the little girl lamented so loudly and bitterly, that he awoke.
+
+Morning was already dawning, his head ached, and he was very cold and
+hungry, but he had no desire nor thought except to proceed; so he again
+went out into the open air, brushed off the hay that still clung to his
+hair and clothes, and walked on towards the south.
+
+It had grown warmer and was beginning to snow heavily.
+
+Walking became more and more difficult; his headache grew unendurable,
+yet his feet still moved, though it seemed as if he wore heavy leaden
+shoes.
+
+Several freight-wagons with armed escorts, and a few peasants, with
+rosaries in their hands, who were on their way to church, met the lad,
+but no one had overtaken him.
+
+On the hinge of noon he heard behind him the tramp of horses' hoofs and
+the rattle of wheels, approaching nearer and nearer with ominous haste.
+
+If it should be the troopers!
+
+Ulrich's heart stood still, and turning to look back, he saw several
+horsemen, who were trotting past a spur of the hill around which the road
+wound.
+
+Through the falling flakes the boy perceived glittering weapons, gay
+doublets and scarfs, and now--now--all hope was over, they wore Count
+Frohlinger's colors!
+
+Unless the earth should open before him, there was no escape.  The road
+belonged to the horsemen; on the right lay a wide, snow-covered plain, on
+the left rose a cliff, kept from falling on the side towards the highway
+by a rude wall.  It needed this support less on account of the road, than
+for the sake of a graveyard, for which the citizens of the neighboring
+borough used the gentle slope of the mountain.
+
+The graves, the bare elder-bushes and bushy cypresses in the cemetery
+were covered with snow, and the brighter the white covering that rested
+on every surrounding object, the stronger was the relief in which the
+black crosses stood forth against it.
+
+A small chapel in the rear of the graveyard caught Ulrich's eye.  If it
+was possible to climb the wall, he might hide behind it.  The horsemen
+were already close at his heels, when he summoned all his remaining
+strength, rushed to a stone projecting from the wall, and began to
+clamber up.
+
+The day before it would have been a small matter for him to reach the
+cemetery; but now the exhausted boy only dragged himself upward, to slip
+on the smooth stones and lose the hold, that the dry, snow-covered plants
+growing in the wide crevices treacherously offered him.
+
+The horsemen had noticed him, and a young man-at-arms exclaimed:
+"A runaway!  See how the young vagabond acts.  I'll seize him."
+
+He set spurs to his horse as he spoke, and just as the boy succeeded in
+reaching his goal, grasped his foot; but Ulrich clung fast to a
+gravestone, so the shoe was left in the trooper's hand and his comrades
+burst into a loud laugh.  It sounded merry, but it echoed in the ears of
+the tortured lad like a shriek from hell, and urged him onward.  He
+leaped over two, five, ten graves--then he stumbled over a head-stone
+concealed by the snow.
+
+With a great effort he rose again, but ere he reached the chapel fell
+once more, and now his will was paralyzed.  In mortal terror he clung to
+a cross, and as his senses failed, thought of "the word."  It seemed as
+if some one had called the right one, and from pure Weakness and fatigue,
+he could not remember it.
+
+The young soldier was not willing to encounter the jeers of his comrades,
+by letting the vagabond escape.  With a curt: "Stop, you rascal," he
+threw the shoe into the graveyard, gave his bridle to the next man in the
+line; and a few minutes after was kneeling by Ulrich's side.  He shook
+and jerked him, but in vain; then growing anxious, called to the others
+that the boy was probably dead.
+
+"People never die so quickly!"  cried the greyhaired leader of the band:
+"Give him a blow."
+
+The youth raised his arm, but did not strike the lad.  He had looked into
+Ulrich's face, and found something there that touched his heart.  "No,
+no," he shouted, "come up here, Peter; a handsome boy; but it's all over
+with him, I say."
+
+During this delay, the traveller whom the men were escorting, and his
+old servant, approached the cemetery at a rapid trot.  The former, a
+gentleman of middle age, protected from the cold by costly furs, saw with
+a single hasty glance the cause of the detention.
+
+Instantly dismounting, he followed the leader of the troop to the end of
+the wall, where there was a flight of rude steps.
+
+Ulrich's head now lay in the soldier's arms, and the traveller gazed at
+him with a look of deep sympathy.  The steadfast glance of his bright
+eyes rested on the boy's features as if spellbound, then he raised his
+hand, beckoned to the elder soldier, and exclaimed: "Lift him; we'll take
+him with us; a corner can be found in the wagon."
+
+The vehicle, of which the traveller spoke, was slow in coming.  It was a
+long four-wheeled equipage, over which, as a protection against wind and
+storm, arched a round, sail-cloth cover.  The driver crouched among the
+straw in a basket behind the horses, like a brooding hen.
+
+Under the sheltering canopy, among the luggage of the fur-clad gentleman,
+sat and reclined four travellers, whom the owner of the vehicle had
+gradually picked up, and who formed a motley company.
+
+The two Dominican friars, Magisters Sutor and Stubenrauch, had entered
+at Cologne, for the wagon came straight from Holland, and belonged to the
+artist Antonio Moor of Utrecht, who was going to King Philip's court.
+The beautiful fur border on the black cap and velvet cloak showed that
+he had no occasion to practise economy; he preferred the back of a good
+horse to a seat in a jolting vehicle.
+
+The ecclesiastics had taken possession of the best places in the back of
+the wagon.  They were inseparable brothers, and formed as it were one
+person, for they behaved like two bodies with one soul.  In this double
+life, fat Magister Sutor represented the will, lean Stubenrauch
+reflection and execution.  If the former proposed to be down or sit, eat
+or drink, sleep or talk, the latter instantly carried the suggestion into
+execution, rarely neglecting to establish, by wise words, for what reason
+the act in question should be performed precisely at that time.
+
+Farther towards the front, with his back resting against a chest, lay a
+fine-looking young Lansquenet.  He was undoubtedly a gay, active fellow,
+but now sat mute and melancholy, supporting with his right hand his
+wounded left arm, as if it were some brittle vessel.
+
+Opposite to him rose a heap of loose straw, beneath which something
+stirred from time to time, and from which at short intervals a slight
+cough was heard.
+
+As soon as the door in the back of the vehicle opened, and the cold snowy
+air entered the dark, damp space under the tilt, Magister Sutor's lips
+parted in a long-drawn "Ugh!" to which his lean companion instantly added
+a torrent of reproachful words about the delay, the draught, the danger
+of taking cold.
+
+When the artist's head appeared in the opening, the priest paused, for
+Moor paid the travelling expenses; but when his companion Sutor drew his
+cloak around him with every token of discomfort and annoyance, he
+followed his example in a still more conspicuous way.
+
+The artist paid no heed to these gestures, but quietly requested his
+guests to make room for the boy.
+
+A muffled head was suddenly thrust out from under the straw, a voice
+cried: "A hospital on wheels!"  then the head vanished again like that of
+a fish, which has risen to take a breath of air.
+
+"Very true," replied the artist.  "You need not draw up your limbs so
+far, my worthy Lansquenet, but I must request these reverend gentlemen to
+move a little farther apart, or closer together, and make room for the
+sick lad on the leather sack."
+
+While these words were uttered, one of the escort laid the still
+senseless boy under the tilt.
+
+Magister Sutor noticed the snow that clung to Ulrich's hair and clothing,
+and while struggling to rise, uttered a repellent "no," while Stubenrauch
+hastily added reproachfully: "There will be a perfect pool here, when
+that melts; you gave us these places, Meister Moor, but we hardly
+expected to receive also dripping limbs and rheumatic pains...."
+
+Before he finished the sentence, the bandaged head again appeared from
+the straw, and the high, shrill voice of the man concealed under it,
+asked?  "Was the blood of the wounded wayfarer, the good Samaritan picked
+up by the roadside, dry or wet?"
+
+An encouraging glance from Sutor requested Stubenrauch to make an
+appropriate answer, and the latter in an unctuous tone, hastily replied:
+"It was the Lord, who caused the Samaritan to find the wounded man by the
+roadside--this did not happen in our case, for the wet boy is forced upon
+us, and though we are Samaritans....."
+
+"You are not yet merciful," cried the voice from the straw.
+
+The artist laughed, but the soldier, slapping his thigh with his sound
+hand, cried:
+
+"In with the boy, you fellows outside; here, put him on my right--move
+farther apart, you gentlemen down below; the water will do us no harm,
+if you'll only give us some of the wine in your basket yonder."
+
+The priests, willy-nilly, now permitted Ulrich to be laid on the leathern
+sack between them, and while first Sutor, and then Stubenrauch, shrunk
+away to mutter prayers over a rosary for the senseless lad's restoration
+to consciousness, and to avoid coming in contact with his wet clothes,
+the artist entered the vehicle, and without asking permission, took the
+wine from the priests' basket.  The soldier helped him, and soon their
+united exertions, with the fiery liquor, revived the fainting boy.
+
+Moor rode forward, and the wagon jolted on until the day's journey ended
+at Emmendingen.  Count von Hochburg's retainers, who were to serve as
+escort from this point, would not ride on Christmas day.  The artist made
+no objection, but when they also declared that no horse should leave the
+stable on the morrow, which was a second holiday, he shrugged his
+shoulders and answered, without any show of anger, but in a firm, haughty
+tone, that he should then probably be obliged--if necessary with their
+master's assistance,--to conduct them to Freiburg to-morrow.
+
+The inns at Emmendingen were among the largest and best in the
+neighborhood of Freiburg, and on account of the changes of escort, which
+frequently took place here, there was no lack of accommodation for
+numerous horses and guests.
+
+As soon as Ulrich was taken into the warm hostelry he fainted a second
+time, and the artist now cared for him as kindly as if he were the lad's
+own father.
+
+Magister Sutor ordered the roast meats, and his companion Stubenrauch
+all the other requisites for a substantial meal, in which they had made
+considerable progress, while the artist was still engaged in ministering
+to the sick lad, in which kindly office the little man, who had been
+hidden under the straw in the wagon, stoutly assisted.
+
+He had been a buffoon, and his dress still bore many tokens of his former
+profession.  His big head swayed upon his thin neck; his droll, though
+emaciated features constantly changed their expression, and even when he
+was not coughing, his mouth was continually in motion.
+
+As soon as Ulrich breathed calmly and regularly, he searched his
+clothing to find some clue to his residence, but everything he discovered
+in the lad's pockets only led to more and more amusing and startling
+conjectures, for nothing can contain a greater variety of objects than
+a school-boy's pockets, if we except a school-girl's.
+
+There was a scrap of paper with a Latin exercise bristling with errors,
+a smooth stone, a shabby, notched knife, a bit of chalk for drawing, an
+iron arrow-head, a broken hobnail, and a falconer's glove, which Count
+Lips had given his comrade.  The ring the doctor's wife had bestowed as
+a farewell token, was also discovered around his neck.
+
+All these things led Pellicanus--so the jester was named--to make many a
+conjecture, and he left none untried.
+
+As a mosaic picture is formed from stones, he by a hundred signs,
+conjured up a vision of the lad's character, home, and the school from
+which he had run away.
+
+He called him the son of a noble of moderate property.  In this he was
+of course mistaken, but in other respects perceived, with wonderful
+acuteness, how Ulrich had hitherto been circumstanced, nay even declared
+that he was a motherless child, a fact proved by many things he lacked.
+The boy had been sent to school too late--Pellicanus was a good Latin
+scholar--and perhaps had been too early initiated into the mysteries of
+riding, hunting, and woodcraft.
+
+The artist, merely by the boy's appearance, gained a more accurate
+knowledge of his real nature, than the jester gathered from his
+investigations and inferences.
+
+Ulrich pleased him, and when he saw the pen-and-ink sketch on the back of
+the exercise, which Pellicanus showed him, he smiled and felt
+strengthened in the resolve to interest himself still more in the
+handsome boy, whom fate had thrown in his way.  He now only needed to
+discover who the lad's parents were, and what had driven him from the
+school.
+
+The surgeon of the little town had bled Ulrich, and soon after he fell
+into a sound sleep, and breathed quietly.  The artist and jester now
+dined together, for the monks had finished their meal long before, and
+were taking a noonday nap.  Moor ordered roast meat and wine for the
+Lansquenet, who sat modestly in one corner of the large public room,
+gazing sadly at his wounded arm.
+
+"Poor fellow!"  said the jester, pointing to the handsome young man.
+"We are brothers in calamity; one just like the other; a cart with a
+broken wheel."
+
+"His arm will soon heal," replied the artist, "but your tool"--here he
+pointed to his own lips--"is stirring briskly enough now.  The monks and
+I have both made its acquaintance within the past few days."
+
+"Well, well,"  replied  Pellicanus, smiling bitterly, "yet they toss me
+into the rubbish heap."
+
+"That would be .  .  .  .  ."
+
+"Ah, you think the wise would then be fools with the fools," interrupted
+Pellicanus.  "Not at all.  Do you know what our masters expect of us?"
+
+"You are to shorten the time for them with wit and jest."
+
+"But when must we be real fools, my Lord?  Have you considered?  Least
+of all in happy hours.  Then we are expected to play the wise man, warn
+against excess, point out shadows.  In sorrow, in times of trouble, then,
+fool, be a fool!  The madder pranks you play, the better.  Make every
+effort, and if you understand your trade well, and know your master, you
+must compel him to laugh till he cries, when he would fain wail for
+grief, like a little girl.  You know princes too, sir, but I know them
+better.  They are gods on earth, and won't submit to the universal lot of
+mortals, to endure pain and anguish.  When people are ill, the physician
+is summoned, and in trouble we are at hand.  Things are as we take them--
+the gravest face may have a wart, upon which a jest can be made.  When
+you have once laughed at a misfortune, its sting loses its point.  We
+deaden it--we light up the darkness--even though it be with a will 'o the
+wisp--and if we understand our business, manage to hack the lumpy dough
+of heavy sorrow into little pieces, which even a princely stomach can
+digest."
+
+"A coughing fool can do that too, so long as there is nothing wanting in
+his upper story."
+
+"You are mistaken, indeed you are.  Great lords only wish to see the
+velvet side of life--of death's doings, nothing at all.  A man like me--
+do you hear--a cougher, whose marrow is being consumed--incarnate misery
+on two tottering legs--a piteous figure, whom one can no more imagine
+outside the grave, than a sportsman without a terrier, or hound--such a
+person calls into the ears of the ostrich, that shuts its eyes: 'Death
+is pointing at you!  Affliction is coming!'  It is my duty to draw a
+curtain between my lord and sorrow; instead of that, my own person brings
+incarnate suffering before his eyes.  The elector was as wise as if he
+were his own fool, when he turned me out of the house."
+
+"He graciously gave you leave of absence."
+
+"And Gugelkopf is already installed in the palace as my successor!  My
+gracious master knows that he won't have to pay the pension long.  He
+would willingly have supported me up yonder till I died; but my wish to
+go to Genoa suited him exactly.  The more distance there is between his
+healthy highness and the miserable invalid, the better."
+
+"Why didn't you wait till spring, before taking your departure?"
+
+"Because Genoa is a hot-house, that the poor consumptive does not need
+in summer.  It is pleasant to be there in winter.  I learned that three
+years ago, when we visited the duke.  Even in January the sun in Liguria
+warms your back, and makes it easier to breathe.  I'm going by way of
+Marseilles.  Will you give me the corner in your carriage as far as
+Avignon?"
+
+"With pleasure!  Your health, Pellicanus!  A good wish on Christmas day is
+apt to be fulfilled."
+
+The artist's deep voice sounded full and cordial, as he uttered the
+words.  The young soldier heard them, and as Moor and the jester touched
+glasses, he raised his own goblet, drained it to the dregs, and asked
+modestly: "Will you listen to a few lines of mine, kind sir?"
+
+"Say them, say them!" cried the artist, filling his glass again, while
+the lansquenet, approaching the table, fixed his eyes steadily on the
+beaker, and in an embarrassed manner, repeated:
+
+              "On Christmas-day, when Jesus Christ,
+               To save us sinners came,
+               A poor, sore-wounded soldier dared
+               To call upon his name.
+               'Oh! hear,' he said, 'my earnest prayer,
+               For the kind, generous man,
+               Who gave the wounded soldier aid,
+               And bore him through the land.
+               So, in Thy shining chariot,
+               I pray, dear Jesus mine,
+               Thou'lt bear him through a happy life
+               To Paradise divine.'"
+
+"Capital, capital!"  cried the artist, pledging the lansquenet and
+insisting that he should sit down between him and the jester.
+
+Pellicanus now gazed thoughtfully into vacancy, for what the wounded man
+could do, he too might surely accomplish.  It was not only ambition, and
+the habit of answering every good saying he heard with a better one, but
+kindly feeling, that urged him to honor the generous benefactor with a
+speech.
+
+After a few minutes, which Moor spent in talking with the soldier,
+Pellicanus raised his glass, coughed again, and said, first calmly,
+then in an agitated voice, whose sharp tones grew more and more subdued:
+
+              "A rogue a fool must be, 't is true,
+               Rog'ry sans folly will not do;
+               Where folly joins with roguery,
+               There's little harm, it seems to me.
+               The pope, the king, the youthful squire,
+               Each one the fool's cap doth attire;
+               He who the bauble will not wear,
+               The worst of fools doth soon appear.
+               Thee may the motley still adorn,
+               When, an old man, the laurel crown
+               Thy head doth deck, while gifts less vain,
+               Thine age to bless will still remain.
+               When fair grandchildren thee delight,
+               Mayst then recall this Christmas night.
+               When added years bring whitening hair,
+               The draught of wisdom then wilt share,
+               But it will lack the flavor due,
+               Without a drop of folly too.
+               And if the drop is not at hand,
+               Remember poor old Pellican,
+               Who, half a rogue and half a fool,
+               Yet has a faithful heart and whole."
+
+"Thanks, thanks!" cried the artist, shaking the jester's hand.  "Such a
+Christmas ought to be lauded!  Wisdom, art, and courage at one table!
+Haven't I fared like the man, who picked up stones by the way side, and
+to-they were changed to pure gold in his knapsack."
+
+"The stone was crumbling," replied the jester; "but as for the gold, it
+will stand the test with me, if you seek it in the heart, and not in the
+pocket.  Holy Blasius!  Would that my grave might lack filling, as long
+as my little strong-box here; I'd willingly allow it."
+
+"And so would I!"  laughed the soldier:
+
+"Then travelling will be easy for you," said the artist.  "There was a
+time, when my pouch was no fuller than yours.  I know by the experience
+of those days how a poor man feels, and never wish to forget it.  I still
+owe you my after-dinner speech, but you must let me off, for I can't
+speak your language fluently.  In brief, I wish you the recovery of your
+health, Pellican, and you a joyous life of happiness and honor, my worthy
+comrade.  What is your name?"
+
+"Hans Eitelfritz von der Lucke, from Colln on the Spree," replied the
+soldier.  "And, no offence, Herr Moor, God will care for the monks, but
+there were three poor invalid fellows in your cart.  One goblet more to
+the pretty sick boy in there."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+After dinner the artist went with his old servant, who had attended to
+the horses and then enjoyed a delicious Christmas roast, to Count von
+Hochburg, to obtain an escort for the next day.
+
+Pellicanus had undertaken to watch Ulrich, who was still sleeping
+quietly.
+
+The jester would gladly have gone to bed himself, for he felt cold and
+tired, but, though the room could not be heated, he remained faithfully
+at his post for hours.  With benumbed hands and feet, he watched by the
+light of the night-lamp every breath the boy drew, often gazing at him
+as anxiously and sympathizingly, as if he were his own child.
+
+When Ulrich at last awoke, he timidly asked when he was, and when the
+jester had soothed him, begged for a bit of bread, he was so hungry.
+
+How famished he felt, the contents of the dish that were speedily placed
+before him, soon discovered Pellicanus wanted to feed him like a baby,
+but the boy took the spoon out of his hand, and the former smilingly
+watched the sturdy eater, without disturbing, him, until he was perfectly
+satisfied; then he began to perplex the lad with questions, that seemed
+to him neither very intelligible, nor calculated to inspire confidence.
+
+"Well, my little bird!"  the jester began, joyously anticipating a
+confirmation of the clever inferences he had drawn, "I suppose it was a
+long flight to the churchyard, where we found you.  On the grave is a
+better place than in it, and a bed at Emmendingen, with plenty of grits
+and veal, is preferable to being in the snow on the highway, with a
+grumbling stomach Speak freely, my lad!  Where does your nest of robbers
+hang?"
+
+"Nest of robbers?"  repeated  Ulrich in amazement.
+
+"Well, castle or the like, for aught I care," continued Pellicanus
+inquiringly.  "Everybody is at home somewhere, except Mr. Nobody; but as
+you are somebody, Nobody cannot possibly be your father.  Tell me about
+the old fellow!"
+
+"My father is dead," replied the boy, and as the events of the preceding
+day rushed back upon his memory, he drew the coverlet over his face and
+wept.
+
+"Poor fellow!"  murmured the jester, hastily drawing his sleeve across
+his eyes, and leaving the lad in peace, till he showed his face again.
+Then he continued: "But I suppose you have a mother at home?"
+
+Ulrich shook his head mournfully, and Pellicanus, to conceal his own
+emotion, looked at him with a comical grimace, and then said very kindly,
+though not without a feeling of satisfaction at his own penetration:
+
+"So you are an orphan!  Yes, yes!  So long as the mother's wings cover
+it, the young bird doesn't fly so thoughtlessly out of the warm nest into
+the wide world.  I suppose the Latin school grew too narrow for the young
+nobleman?"
+
+Ulrich raised himself, exclaiming in an eager, defiant tone:
+
+"I won't go back to the monastery; that I will not."
+
+"So that's the way the hare jumps!"  cried the fool laughing.  "You've
+been a bad Latin scholar, and the timber in the forest is dearer to you,
+than the wood in the school-room benches.  To be sure, they send out no
+green shoots.  Dear Lord, how his face is burning!"  So saying,
+Pellicanus laid his hand on the boy's forehead and when he felt that it
+was hot, deemed it better to stop his examination for the day, and only
+asked his patient his name.
+
+"Ulrich," was the reply.
+
+"And what else?"
+
+"Let me alone!"  pleaded the boy, drawing the coverlet over his head
+again.
+
+The jester obeyed his wish, and opened the door leading into the tap-
+room, for some one had knocked.  The artist's servant entered, to fetch
+his master's portmanteau.  Old Count von Hochburg had invited Moor to be
+his guest, and the painter intended to spend the night at the castle.
+Pellicanus was to take care of the boy, and if necessary send for the
+surgeon again.  An hour after, the sick jester lay shivering in his bed,
+coughing before sleeping and between naps.  Ulrich too could obtain no
+slumber.
+
+At first he wept softly, for he now clearly realized, for the first time,
+that he had lost his father and should never see Ruth, the doctor, nor
+the doctor's dumb wife Elizabeth again.  Then he wondered how he had come
+to Einmendingen, what sort of a place it was, and who the queer little
+man could be, who had taken him for a young noble--the quaint little man
+with the cough, and a big head, whose eyes sparkled so through his tears.
+The jester's mistake made him laugh, and he remembered that Ruth had once
+advised him to command the "word," to transform him into a count.
+
+Suppose he should say to-morrow, that his father had been a knight?
+
+But the wicked thought only glided through his mind; even before he had
+reflected upon it, he felt ashamed of himself, for he was no liar.
+
+Deny his father!  That was very wrong, and when he stretched himself out
+to sleep, the image of the valiant smith stood with tangible distinctness
+before his soul.  Gravely and sternly he floated upon clouds, and looked
+exactly like the pictures Ulrich had seen of God the Father, only he wore
+the smith's cap on his grey hair.  Even in Paradise, the glorified spirit
+had not relinquished it.
+
+Ulrich raised his hands as if praying, but hastily let them fall again,
+for there was a great stir outside of the inn.  The tramp of steeds, the
+loud voices of men, the sound of drums and fifes were audible, then there
+was rattling, marching and shouting in the court-yard.
+
+"A room for the  clerk of the  muster-roll and paymaster!"  cried a
+voice.
+
+"Gently, gently, children!"  said the deep tones of the provost, who was
+the leader, counsellor and friend of the Lansquenets.  "A devout servant
+must not bluster at the holy Christmas-tide; he's permitted to drink a
+glass, Heaven be praised.  Your house is to be greatly honored, Landlord!
+The recruiting for our most gracious  commander,  Count von Oberstein,
+is--to be done here.  Do you hear, man!  Everything to be paid for in
+cash, and not a chicken will be lost; but the wine must be good!  Do you
+understand?  So this evening broach a cask of your best.  Pardon me,
+children--the very best, I meant to say."
+
+Ulrich now heard the door of the tap-room open, and fancied he could see
+the Lansquenets in gay costumes, each one different from the other, crowd
+into the apartment.
+
+The jester coughed loudly, scolding and muttering to himself; but Ulrich
+listened with sparkling eyes to the sounds that came through the ill-
+fitting door, by which he could hear what was passing in the next room.
+
+With the clerk of the muster-rolls, the paymaster and provost had
+appeared the drummers and fifers, who the day after to-morrow were to
+sound the license for recruiting, and besides these, twelve Lansquenets,
+who were evidently no novices.
+
+Many an exclamation of surprise and pleasure was heard directly after
+their entrance into the tap-room, and amid the confusion of voices, the
+name of Hans Eitelfritz fell more than once upon Ulrich's ear.
+
+The provost's voice sounded unusually cordial, as he greeted the brave
+fellow with the wounded hand--an honor of great value to the latter, for
+he had served five years in the same company with the provost, "Father
+Kanold," who read the very depths of his soldiers' hearts, and knew them
+all as if they were his own sons.
+
+Ulrich could not understand much amid the medley of voices in the
+adjoining room, but when Hans Eitelfritz, from Colln on the Spree, asked
+to be the first one put down on the muster-roll, he distinctly heard the
+provost oppose the clerk's scruples, saying warmly "write, write; I'd
+rather have him with one hand, than ten peevish fellows with two.  He has
+fun and life in him.  Advance him some money too, he probably lacks many
+a piece of armor."
+
+Meantime the wine-cask must have been opened, for the clink of glasses,
+and soon after loud singing was audible.
+
+Just as the second song began, the boy fell asleep, but woke again two
+hours after, roused by the stillness that had suddenly succeeded the
+uproar.
+
+Hans Eitelfritz had declared himself ready to give a new song in his best
+vein, and the provost commanded silence.
+
+The singing now began; during its continuance Ulrich raised himself
+higher and higher in bed, not a word escaped him, either of the song
+itself, or the chorus, which was repeated by the whole party, with
+exuberant gayety, amid the loud clinking of goblets.  Never before had
+the lad heard such bold, joyous voices; even at the second verse his
+heart bounded and it seemed as if he must join in the tune, which he had
+quickly caught.  The song ran as follows:
+
+               Who, who will venture to hold me back?
+               Drums beat, fifes are playing a merry tune!
+               Down hammer, down pen, what more need I, alack
+               I go to seek fortune, good fortune!
+
+               Oh father, mother, dear sister mine,
+               Blue-eyed maid at the bridge-house, my fair one.
+               Weep not, ye must not at parting repine,
+               I go to seek fortune, good fortune!
+
+               The cannon roar loud, the sword flashes bright,
+               Who'll dare meet the stroke of my falchion?
+               Close-ranked, horse and foot in battle unite,
+               In war, war, dwells fortune, good fortune!
+
+               The city is taken, the booty mine;
+               With red gold, I'll deck--I know whom;
+               Pair maids' cheeks burn red, red too glows the wine,
+               Fortune, Paradise of good fortune!
+
+               Deep, scarlet wounds, brave breasts adorn,
+               Impoverished, crippled age I shun
+               A death of honor, 'mid glory won,
+               This too is good fortune, good fortune!
+
+               A soldier-lad composed this ditty
+               Hans Eitelfritz he, fair Colln's son,
+               His kindred dwell in the goodly city,
+               But he himself in fortune, good fortune!
+
+"He himself in fortune, good fortune," sang Ulrich also, and while, amid
+loud shouts of joy, the glasses again clinked against each other, he
+repeated the glad "fortune, good fortune."  Suddenly, it flashed upon
+him like a revelation, "Fortune," that might be the word!
+
+Such exultant joy, such lark-like trilling, such inspiring promises of
+happiness had never echoed in any word, as they now did from the
+"fortune," the young lansquenet so gaily and exultantly uttered.
+
+"Fortune, Fortune!"  he exclaimed aloud, and the jester, who was lying
+sleepless in his bed and could not help smiling at the lad's singing,
+raised himself, saying:
+
+"Do you like the word?  Whoever understands how to seize it when it flits
+by, will always float on top of everything, like fat on the soup.  Rods
+are cut from birches, willows, and knotted hazel-sticks-ho!  ho! you know
+that, already;--but, for him who has good fortune, larded cakes, rolls
+and sausages grow.  One bold turn of Fortune's wheel will bring him, who
+has stood at the bottom, up to the top with the speed of lightning.
+Brother Queer-fellow says: 'Up and down, like an avalanche.'  But now
+turn over and go to sleep.  To-morrow will also be a Christmas-day, which
+will perhaps bring you Fortune as a Christmas gift."
+
+It seemed as if Ulrich had not called upon Fortune in vain, for as soon
+as he closed his eyes, a pleasant dream bore him with gentle hands to the
+forge on the market-place, and his mother stood beside the lighted
+Christmas-tree, pointing to the new sky-blue suit she had made him, and
+the apples, nuts, hobby-horse, and jumping jack, with a head as round as
+a ball, huge ears, and tiny flat legs.  He felt far too old for such
+childish toys, and yet took a certain pleasure in them.  Then the vision
+changed, and he again saw his mother; but this time she was walking among
+the angels in Paradise.  A royal crown adorned her golden hair, and she
+told him she was permitted to wear it there, because she had been so
+reviled, and endured so much disgrace on earth.
+
+When the artist returned from Count von Hochburg's the next morning, he
+was not a little surprised to see Ulrich standing before the recruiting-
+table bright and well.
+
+The lad's cheeks were glowing with shame and anger, for the clerk of the
+muster-rolls and paymaster had laughed in his face, when he expressed his
+desire to become a Lansquenet.
+
+The artist soon learned what was going on, and bade his protege accompany
+him out of doors.  Kindly, and without either mockery or reproof, he
+represented to him that he was still far too young for military service,
+and after Ulrich had confirmed everything the painter had already heard
+from the jester, Moor asked who had given him instruction in drawing.
+
+"My father, and afterwards Father Lukas in the monastery," replied the
+boy.  "But don't question me as the little man did last night."
+
+"No, no," said his protector.  "But there are one or two more things I
+wish to know.  Was your father an artist?"
+
+"No," murmured the lad, blushing and hesitating.  But when he met the
+stranger's clear gaze, he quickly regained his composure, and said:
+
+"He only knew how to draw, because he understood how to forge beautiful,
+artistic things."
+
+"And in what city did you live?"
+
+"In no city.  Outside in the woods."
+
+"Oho!" said the artist, smiling significantly, for he knew that many
+knights practised a trade.  "Answer only two questions more; then you
+shall be left in peace until you voluntarily open your heart to me.  What
+is your name?"
+
+"Ulrich."
+
+"I know that; but your father's?"
+
+"Adam."
+
+"And what else?"
+
+Ulrich gazed silently at the ground, for the smith had borne no other
+name.
+
+"Well then," said Moor, "we will call you Ulrich for the present; that
+will suffice.  But have you no relatives?  Is no one waiting for you at
+home?"
+
+"We have led such a solitary life--no one."
+
+Moor looked fixedly into the boy's face, then nodded, and with a well-
+satisfied expression, laid his hand on Ulrich's curls, and said:
+
+"Look at me.  I am an artist, and if you have any love for my profession,
+I will teach you."
+
+"Oh!" cried the boy, clasping his hands in glad surprise.
+
+"Well then," Moor continued, "you can't learn much on the way, but we can
+work hard in Madrid.  We are going now to King Philip of Spain."
+
+"Spain, Portugal!" murmured Ulrich with sparkling eyes; all he had heard
+in the doctor's house about these countries returned to his mind.
+
+"Fortune, good fortune!"  cried an exultant voice in his heart.  This was
+the "word," it must be, it was already exerting its spell, and the spell
+was to prove its inherent power in the near future.
+
+That very day the party were to go to Count von Rappoltstein in the
+village of Rappolts, and this time Ulrich was not to plod along on foot,
+or he in a close baggage-wagon; no, he was to be allowed to ride a
+spirited horse.  The escort would not consist of hired servants, but of
+picked men, and the count was going to join the train in person at the
+hill crowned by the castle, for Moor had promised to paint a portrait of
+the nobleman's daughter, who had married Count von Rappoltstein.  It was
+to be a costly Christmas gift, which the old gentleman intended to make
+himself and his faithful wife.
+
+The wagon was also made ready for the journey; but no one rode inside;
+the jester, closely muffled in wraps, had taken his seat beside the
+driver, and the monks were obliged to go on by way of Freiburg, and
+therefore could use the vehicle no longer.
+
+They scolded and complained about it, as if they had been greatly
+wronged, and when Sutor refused to shake hands with the artist,
+Stubenrauch angrily turned his back upon the kind-hearted man.
+
+The offended pair sullenly retired, but the Christmas sun shone none
+the less brightly from the clear sky, the party of travellers had a gay,
+spick and span, holiday aspect, and the world into which they now fared
+stoutly forth, was so wide and beautiful, that Ulrich forgot his grief,
+and joyously waved his new cap in answer to the Lansquenet's farewell
+gesture.
+
+It was a merry ride, for on the way they met numerous travellers, who
+were going through the hamlet of Rappolts to the "three castles on the
+mountain" and saluted the old nobleman with lively songs.  The Counts von
+Rappoltstein were the "piper-kings," the patrons of the brotherhood of
+musicians and singers on the Upper Rhine.  Usually these joyous birds met
+at the castle of their "king" on the 8th of September, to pay him their
+little tax and be generously entertained in return; but this year, on
+account of the plague in the autumn, the festival had been deferred until
+the third day after Christmas, but Ulrich believed 'Fortune' had arranged
+it so for him.
+
+There was plenty of singing, and the violins and rebecs, flutes, and
+reed-pipes were never silent.  One serenade followed another, and even at
+the table a new song rang out at each new course.
+
+The fiery wine, game and sweet cakes at the castle board undoubtedly
+pleased the palate of the artisan's son, but he enjoyed feasting his ears
+still more.  He felt as if he were in Heaven, and thought less and less
+of the grief he had endured.
+
+Day by day Fortune shook her horn of plenty, and flung new gifts down
+upon him.
+
+He had told the stable-keepers of his power over refractory horses, and
+after proving what he could do, was permitted to tame wild stallions and
+ride them about the castle-yard, before the eyes of the old and young
+count and the beautiful young lady.  This brought him praise and gifts
+of new clothes.  Many a delicate hand stroked his curls, and it always
+seemed to him as if his mighty spell could bestow nothing better.
+
+One day Moor took him aside, and told him that he had commenced a
+portrait of young Count Rappolstein too.  The lad was obliged to be
+still, having broken his foot in a fall from his horse, and as Ulrich was
+of the same size and age, the artist wished him to put on the young
+count's clothes and serve as a model.
+
+The smith's son now received the best clothes belonging to his
+aristocratic companion in age.  The suit was entirely black, but each
+garment of a different material, the stockings silk, the breeches satin,
+the doublet soft Flanders velvet.  Golden-yellow puffs and slashes stood
+forth in beautiful relief against the darker stuff.  Even the knots of
+ribbon on the breeches and shoes were as yellow as a blackbird's beak.
+Delicate lace trimmed the neck and fell on the hands, and a clasp of real
+gems confined the black and yellow plumes in the velvet hat.
+
+All this finery was wonderfully becoming to the smith's son, and he must
+have been blind, if he had not noticed how old and young nudged each
+other at sight of him.  The spirit of vanity in his soul laughed in
+delight, and the lad soon knew the way to the large Venetian mirror,
+which was carefully kept in the hall of state.  This wonderful glass
+showed Ulrich for the first time his whole figure and the image which
+looked back at him from the crystal, flattered and pleased him.
+
+But, more than aught else, he enjoyed watching the artist's hand and eye
+during the sittings.  Poor Father Lukas in the monastery must hide his
+head before this master.  He seemed to actually grow while engaged in his
+work, his shoulders, which he usually liked to carry stooping forward,
+straightened, the broad, manly breast arched higher, and the kindly eyes
+grew stern, nay sometimes wore a terrible expression.
+
+Although little was said during the sittings, they were always too short
+for the boy.  He did not stir, for it always seemed to him as if any
+movement would destroy the sacred act he witnessed, and when, in the
+pauses, he looked at the canvas and saw how swiftly and steadily the work
+progressed, he felt as if before his own eyes, he was being born again to
+a nobler existence.  In the wassail-hall hung the portrait of a young
+Prince of Navarre, whose life had been saved in the chase by a
+Rappoltstein.  Ulrich, attired in the count's clothes, looked exactly
+like him.  The jester had been the first to perceive this strange
+circumstance.  Every one, even Moor, agreed with him, and so it happened
+that Pellicanus henceforth called his young friend the Navarrete.  The
+name pleased the boy.  Everything here pleased him, and he was full of
+happiness; only often at night he could not help grieving because, while
+his father was dead, he enjoyed such an overflowing abundance of good
+things, and because he had lost his mother, Ruth, and all who had loved
+him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+Ulrich was obliged to share the jester's sleeping-room, and as Pellicanus
+shrank from getting out of bed, while suffering from night-sweats, and
+often needed something, he roused Ulrich from his sleep, and the latter
+was always ready to assist him.  This happened more frequently as they
+continued their journey, and the poor little man's illness increased.
+
+The count had furnished Ulrich with a spirited young horse, that
+shortened the road for him by its tricks and capers.  But the jester, who
+became more and more attached to the boy, also did his utmost to keep the
+feeling of happiness alive in his heart.  On warm days he nestled in the
+rack before the tilt with the driver, and when Ulrich rode beside him,
+opened his eyes to everything that passed before him.
+
+The jester had a great deal to tell about the country and people, and he
+embellished the smallest trifle with tales invented by himself, or
+devised by others.
+
+While passing a grove of birches, he asked the lad if he knew why the
+trunks of these trees were white, and then explained the cause, as
+follows:
+
+"When Orpheus played so exquisitely on his lute, all the trees rushed
+forward to dance.  The birches wanted to come too, but being vain,
+stopped to put on white dresses, to outdo the others.  When they finally
+appeared on the dancing-ground, the singer had already gone--and now,
+summer and winter, year in and year out, they keep their white dresses
+on, to be prepared, when Orpheus returns and the lute sounds again."
+
+A cross-bill was perched on a bough in a pine-wood, and the jester said
+that this bird was a very peculiar species.  It had originally been grey,
+and its bill was as straight as a sparrow's, but when the Saviour hung
+upon the cross, it pitied him, and with its little bill strove to draw
+the nails from the wounded hands.  In memory of this friendly act, the
+Lord had marked its beak with the cross, and painted a dark-red spot on
+its breast, where the bird hall been sprinkled with His Son's blood.
+Other rewards were bestowed upon it, for no other bird could hatch a
+brood of young ones in winter, and it also had the power of lessening the
+fever of those, who cherished it.
+
+A flock of wild geese flew over the road and the hills, and Pellicanus
+cried: "Look there!  They always fly in two straight lines, and form a
+letter of the alphabet.  This time it is an A.  Can you see it?  When the
+Lord was writing the laws on the tablets, a flock of wild geese flew
+across Mt. Sinai, and in doing so, one effaced a letter with its wing.
+Since that time, they always fly in the shape of a letter, and their
+whole race, that is, all geese, are compelled to let those people who
+wish to write, pluck the feathers from their wings."
+
+Pellicanus was fond of talking to the boy in their bedroom.  He always
+called him Navarrete, and the artist, when in a cheerful mood, followed
+his example.
+
+Ulrich felt great reverence for Moor; the jester, on the contrary, was
+only a good comrade, in whom he speedily reposed entire confidence.
+
+Many an allusion and jesting word showed that Pellicanus still believed
+him to be the son of a knight, and this at last became unendurable to the
+lad.
+
+One evening, when they were both in bed, he summoned up his courage and
+told him everything he knew about his past life.
+
+The jester listened attentively, without interrupting him, until Ulrich
+finished his story with the words "And while I was gone, the bailiffs and
+dogs tracked them, but my father resisted, and they killed him and the
+doctor."
+
+"Yes,  yes,"  murmured  the jester.  "It's  a  pity about Costa.  Many a
+Christian might feel honored at resembling some Jews.  It is only a
+misfortune to be born a Hebrew, and be deprived of eating ham.  The Jews
+are compelled to wear an offensive badge, but many a Christian child is
+born with one.  For instance, in Sparta they would have hurled me into
+the gulf, on account of my big head, and deformed shoulder.  Nowadays,
+people are less merciful, and let men like us drag the cripple's mark
+through life.  God sees the heart; but men cannot forget their ancestor,
+the clod of earth--the outside is always more to them than the inside.
+If my head had only been smaller, and some angel had smoothed my
+shoulder, I might perhaps now be a cardinal, wear purple, and instead of
+riding under a grey tilt, drive in a golden coach, with well-fed black
+steeds.  Your body was measured with a straight yard stick, but there's
+trouble in other places.  So your father's name was Adam, and he really
+bore no other?"
+
+"No, certainly not."
+
+"That's too little by half.  From this day we'll call you in earnest
+Navarrete: Ulrich Navarrete.  That will be something complete.  The name
+is only a dress, but if half of it is taken from your body, you are left
+half-bare and exposed to mockery.  The garment must be becoming too, so
+we adorn it as we choose.  My father was called Kurschner, but at the
+Latin school Olearius and Faber and Luscinius sat beside me, so I raised
+myself to the rank of a Roman citizen, and turned Kurschner into
+Pellicanus.  .  .  ."
+
+The jester coughed violently, and continued  One thing more.  To expect
+gratitude is folly, nine times out of ten none is reaped, and he who is
+wise thinks only of himself, and usually omits to seek thanks; but every
+one ought to be grateful, for it is burdensome to have enemies, and there
+is no one we learn to hate more easily, than the benefactor we repay with
+ingratitude.  You ought and must tell the artist your history, for he has
+deserved your confidence.
+
+The jester's worldly-wise sayings, in which selfishness was always
+praised as the highest virtue, often seemed very puzzling to the boy,
+yet many of them were impressed on his young soul.  He followed the sick
+man's advice the very next morning, and he had no cause to regret it, for
+Moor treated him even more kindly than before.
+
+Pellicanus intended to part from the travellers at Avignon, to go to
+Marseilles, and from there by ship to Savona, but before he reached the
+old city of the popes, he grew so feeble, that Moor scarcely hoped to
+bring him alive to the goal of his journey.
+
+The little man's body seemed to continually grow smaller, and his head
+larger, while his hollow, livid cheeks looked as if a rose-leaf adorned
+the centre of each.
+
+He often told his travelling-companions about his former life.
+
+He had originally been destined for the ecclesiastical profession, but
+though he surpassed all the other pupils in the school, he was deprived
+of the hope of ever becoming a priest, for the Church wants no cripples.
+He was the child of poor people, and had been obliged to fight his way
+through his career as a student, with great difficulty.
+
+"How shabby the broad top of my cap often was!" he said.  "I was so much
+ashamed of it.  I am so small.  Dear me, anybody could see my head, and
+could not help noticing all the worn places in the velvet, if he cast his
+eyes down.  How often have I sat beside the kitchen of a cook-shop, and
+seasoned dry bread with the smell of roast meat.  Often too my poodledog
+went out and stole a sausage for me from the butcher."
+
+At other times the little fellow had fared better; then, sitting in the
+taverns, he had given free-play to his wit, and imposed no constraint on
+his sharp tongue.
+
+Once he had been invited by a former boon-companion, to accompany him to
+his ancestral castle, to cheer his sick father; and so it happened that
+he became a buffoon, wandered from one great lord to another, and finally
+entered the elector's service.
+
+He liked to pretend that he despised the world and hated men, but this
+assertion could not be taken literally, and was to be regarded in a
+general, rather than a special sense, for every beautiful thing in the
+world kindled eager enthusiasm in his heart, and he remained kindly
+disposed towards individuals to the end.
+
+When Moor once charged him with this, he said, smiling:
+
+"What would you have?  Whoever condemns, feels himself superior to the
+person upon whom he sits in judgment, and how many fools, like me, fancy
+themselves great, when they stand on tiptoe, and find fault even with the
+works of God!  'The world is evil,' says the philosopher, and whoever
+listens to him, probably thinks carelessly: 'Hear, hear!  He would have
+made it better than our Father in heaven.'  Let me have my pleasure.
+I'm only a little man, but I deal in great things.  To criticise a single
+insignificant human creature, seems to me scarcely worth while, but when
+we pronounce judgment on all humanity and the boundless universe, we can
+open our mouths-wonderfully wide!"
+
+Once his heart had been filled with love for a beautiful girl, but she
+had scornfully rejected his suit and married another.  When she was
+widowed, and he found her in dire poverty, he helped her with a large
+share of his savings, and performed this kind service again, when the
+second worthless fellow she married had squandered her last penny.
+
+His life was rich in similar incidents.
+
+In his actions, the queer little man obeyed the dictates of his heart;
+in his speech, his head ruled his tongue, and this seemed to him the only
+sensible course.  To practise unselfish generosity he regarded as a
+subtle, exquisite pleasure, which he ventured to allow himself, because
+he desired nothing more; others, to whom he did not grudge a prosperous
+career, he must warn against such folly.
+
+There was a keen, bitter expression on his large, thin face, and whoever
+saw him for the first time might easily have supposed him to be a wicked,
+spiteful man.  He knew this, and delighted in frightening the men and
+maid-servants at the taverns by hideous grimaces--he boasted of being
+able to make ninety-five different faces--until the artist's old valet
+at last dreaded him like the "Evil One."
+
+He was particularly gay in Avignon, for he felt better than he had done
+for a long time, and ordered a seat to be engaged for him in a vehicle
+going to Marseilles.
+
+The evening before their separation, he described with sparkling
+vivacity, the charms of the Ligurian coast, and spoke of the future
+as if he were sure of entire recovery and a long life.
+
+In the night Ulrich heard him groaning louder than usual, and starting
+up, raised him, as he was in the habit of doing when the poor little man
+was tortured by difficulty of breathing.  But this time Pellicanus did
+not swear and scold, but remained perfectly still, and when his heavy
+head fell like a pumpkin on the boy's breast, he was greatly terrified
+and ran to call the artist.
+
+Moor was soon standing at the head of the sick-bed, holding a light, so
+that its rays could fall upon the face of the gasping man.  The latter
+opened his eyes and made three grimaces in quick succession--very comical
+ones, yet tinged with sadness.
+
+Pellicanus probably noticed the artist's troubled glance, for he tried to
+nod to him, but his head was too heavy and his strength too slight, so he
+only succeeded in moving it first to the right and then to the left, but
+his eyes expressed everything he desired to say.  In this way several
+minutes elapsed, then Pellicanus smiled, and with a sorrowful gaze,
+though a mischievous expression hovered around his mouth, scanned:
+
+"'Mox erit' quiet and mute, 'gui modo' jester 'erat'."  Then he said as
+softly as if every tone came, not from his chest, but merely from his
+lips
+
+"Is it agreed, Navarrete, Ulrich Navarrete?  I've made the Latin easy for
+you, eh?  Your hand, boy.  Yours, too, dear, dear master.....Moor,
+Ethiopian--Blackskin...."
+
+The words died away in a low, rattling sound, and the dying man's eyes
+became glazed, but it was several hours before he drew his last breath.
+
+A priest gave him Extreme Unction, but consciousness did not return.
+
+After the holy man had left him, his lips moved incessantly, but no one
+could understand what he said.  Towards morning, the sun of Provence was
+shining warmly and brightly into the room and on his bed, when he
+suddenly threw his arm above his head, and half speaking, half singing to
+Hans Eitelfritz's melody, let fall from his lips the words: "In fortune,
+good fortune."  A few minutes after he was dead.
+
+Moor closed his eyes.  Ulrich knelt weeping beside the bed, and kissed
+his poor friend's cold hand.
+
+When he rose, the artist was gazing with silent reverence at the jester's
+features; Ulrich followed his eyes, and imagined he was standing in the
+presence of a miracle, for the harsh, bitter, troubled face had obtained
+a new expression, and was now the countenance of a peaceful, kindly man,
+who had fallen asleep with pleasant memories in his heart.
+
+
+
+
+ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
+
+No one we learn to hate more easily, than the benefactor
+Once laughed at a misfortune, its sting loses its point
+To expect gratitude is folly
+Whoever condemns, feels himself superior
+
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A WORD ONLY A WORD, BY EBERS, V2 ***
+
+*********** This file should be named 5573.txt or 5573.zip **********
+
+This eBook was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net>
+
+Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we usually do not
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance
+of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
+Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections,
+even years after the official publication date.
+
+Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til
+midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
+The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at
+Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month.  A
+preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
+and editing by those who wish to do so.
+
+Most people start at our Web sites at:
+https://gutenberg.org or
+http://promo.net/pg
+
+These Web sites include award-winning information about Project
+Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new
+eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!).
+
+
+Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement
+can get to them as follows, and just download by date.  This is
+also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the
+indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an
+announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter.
+
+http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext03 or
+ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03
+
+Or /etext02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90
+
+Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want,
+as it appears in our Newsletters.
+
+
+Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)
+
+We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work.  The
+time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours
+to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
+searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc.   Our
+projected audience is one hundred million readers.  If the value
+per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2
+million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text
+files per month:  1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+
+We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002
+If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total
+will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end.
+
+The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks!
+This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
+which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users.
+
+Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated):
+
+eBooks Year Month
+
+    1  1971 July
+   10  1991 January
+  100  1994 January
+ 1000  1997 August
+ 1500  1998 October
+ 2000  1999 December
+ 2500  2000 December
+ 3000  2001 November
+ 4000  2001 October/November
+ 6000  2002 December*
+ 9000  2003 November*
+10000  2004 January*
+
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created
+to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people
+and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut,
+Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois,
+Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts,
+Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New
+Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio,
+Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South
+Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West
+Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming.
+
+We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones
+that have responded.
+
+As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list
+will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states.
+Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state.
+
+In answer to various questions we have received on this:
+
+We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally
+request donations in all 50 states.  If your state is not listed and
+you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have,
+just ask.
+
+While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are
+not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting
+donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to
+donate.
+
+International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about
+how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made
+deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are
+ways.
+
+Donations by check or money order may be sent to:
+
+Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+PMB 113
+1739 University Ave.
+Oxford, MS 38655-4109
+
+Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment
+method other than by check or money order.
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by
+the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN
+[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154.  Donations are
+tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law.  As fund-raising
+requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be
+made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+You can get up to date donation information online at:
+
+https://www.gutenberg.org/donation.html
+
+
+***
+
+If you can't reach Project Gutenberg,
+you can always email directly to:
+
+Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com>
+
+Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message.
+
+We would prefer to send you information by email.
+
+
+**The Legal Small Print**
+
+
+(Three Pages)
+
+***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START***
+Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers.
+They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
+your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from
+someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
+fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement
+disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how
+you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to.
+
+*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK
+By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
+eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept
+this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive
+a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by
+sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person
+you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical
+medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.
+
+ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS
+This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks,
+is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart
+through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project").
+Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright
+on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and
+distribute it in the United States without permission and
+without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth
+below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook
+under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
+
+Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market
+any commercial products without permission.
+
+To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable
+efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
+works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any
+medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other
+things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
+disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer
+codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES
+But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
+[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may
+receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims
+all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including
+legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR
+UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT,
+INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE
+OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
+POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.
+
+If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of
+receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
+you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
+time to the person you received it from. If you received it
+on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
+such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement
+copy. If you received it electronically, such person may
+choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to
+receive it electronically.
+
+THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
+TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
+PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
+
+Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
+the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
+above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
+may have other legal rights.
+
+INDEMNITY
+You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation,
+and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated
+with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
+texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including
+legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the
+following that you do or cause:  [1] distribution of this eBook,
+[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook,
+or [3] any Defect.
+
+DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
+You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by
+disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this
+"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg,
+or:
+
+[1]  Only give exact copies of it.  Among other things, this
+     requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
+     eBook or this "small print!" statement.  You may however,
+     if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable
+     binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
+     including any form resulting from conversion by word
+     processing or hypertext software, but only so long as
+     *EITHER*:
+
+     [*]  The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
+          does *not* contain characters other than those
+          intended by the author of the work, although tilde
+          (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
+          be used to convey punctuation intended by the
+          author, and additional characters may be used to
+          indicate hypertext links; OR
+
+     [*]  The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at
+          no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
+          form by the program that displays the eBook (as is
+          the case, for instance, with most word processors);
+          OR
+
+     [*]  You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
+          no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
+          eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
+          or other equivalent proprietary form).
+
+[2]  Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this
+     "Small Print!" statement.
+
+[3]  Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the
+     gross profits you derive calculated using the method you
+     already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  If you
+     don't derive profits, no royalty is due.  Royalties are
+     payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation"
+     the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were
+     legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
+     periodic) tax return.  Please contact us beforehand to
+     let us know your plans and to work out the details.
+
+WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
+Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of
+public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed
+in machine readable form.
+
+The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time,
+public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses.
+Money should be paid to the:
+"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or
+software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at:
+hart@pobox.com
+
+[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only
+when distributed free of all fees.  Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by
+Michael S. Hart.  Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be
+used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be
+they hardware or software or any other related product without
+express permission.]
+
+*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END*
+
diff --git a/5573.zip b/5573.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..713dd35
--- /dev/null
+++ b/5573.zip
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2829251
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #5573 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/5573)