Baron von Kalenbach, a
Swabian who had come to be my uncle's disciple and to learn forestry.

This same young Baron was a slender stripling, well-grown and not
ill-favored; but it seemed as though his lips were locked, and if a
man was fain to hear the sound of his voice and get from him a "yea" or
"nay" there was no way but by asking him a plain question. His eye, on
the other hand, was full of speech, and by the time I had been no more
than three weeks at the Lodge it told me, as often as it might, that
he was deeply in love with me; nay, he told the reverend chaplain in so
many words that his first desire was that he might take me home as his
wife to Swabia, where he had rich estates.

Never would I have said him yea, albeit I liked him well; nor did I
hide it from him; nay indeed, now and again I may have lent him courage,
though truly with no evil intent, since I was not ill pleased with the
tale his eyes told me. And I was but a young thing then, and wist not
as yet that a maid who gives hope to a suitor though she has no mind to
hear him, is guilty of a sin grievous enough to bring forth much sorrow
and heart-ache. It was not till I had had a lesson which came upon me
all too soon, that I took heed in such matters; and the time was at hand
when men folks thought more about me than I deemed convenient.

As I have gone so far as to put this down on paper, I, an old woman now,
will put aside bashfulness and freely confess that both Ann and I were
at that time well-favored and good to look upon.

I was of the greater height and stouter build, while she was more
slender and supple; and for gentle sweetness I have never seen her like.
I was rose and white, and my golden hair was no whit less fine than
Ursula Tetzel's; but whoso would care to know what we were to look upon
in our youth, let him gaze on our portraits, before which each one of
you has stood many a time. But I will leave speaking of such foolish
things and come now to the point.

Though for most days common wear was good enough at the Forest Lodge,
we sometimes had occasion to wear our bravery, for now and again we went
forth to hunt with my uncle or with the Junker, on foot or on horseback,
or hawking with a falcon on the wrist. There was no lack of these noble
birds, and the bravest of them all, a falcon from Iceland beyond seas,
had been brought thence by Seyfried Kubbeling of Brunswick. That same
strange man, who was my right good friend, had ere n