se, and his
heart burned with jealousy.

One evening Diedrich was returning to his home, when, looking over his
shoulder on hearing footsteps, he discovered that he was followed. When
he walked faster, the stranger proceeded also at the same rate; when he
stopped, the stranger stopped; when he went at a slow pace, the stranger
slackened his speed. At length, passing a shrine at the corner of a
street, before which a bright lamp was kept burning, Diedrich turned
sharply round, and found himself standing face to face with the person
who had been following him.

"What object have you in dodging my steps?" asked Diedrich, placing his
hand on his sword ready to draw.

"As you ask me a question, I will put another to you," said the
stranger, also drawing his sword half out of the scabbard. "For what
purpose do you visit the house where you have been passing the evening?"

"You put a question to which I positively refuse to reply to any one,
and still less to you, Caspar Gaill, for I know you well," answered
Diedrich, still further drawing out his sword.

"Then I refuse to answer the question you put to me," said Caspar. "We
understand each other, and you may know me henceforth as your enemy."

"A matter of very little consequence," answered Diedrich, in a scornful
tone.

The young men parted, but from that day forward Diedrich was aware that
his footsteps were constantly followed when he went abroad, especially
on the Sabbath, when he was accustomed to attend the meetings of the
Protestants held in the city. Still he was too proud and too fearless
to alter his mode of proceeding on this account. At night often he saw
in the distance a dim figure following him, but which, when he turned
round, invariably disappeared.

On one occasion he resolved to pursue the spy, and punish him severely
if he could overtake him. Scarcely had he left his home when he
observed a figure as usual like a distant shadow coming after him. He
walked on for some way, as if indifferent to the circumstance, by gentle
degrees slackening his pace, till, as he supposed, his pursuer had
approached nearer than usual. He then suddenly turned round, and,
darting forward, was close up to the man before the latter made any
attempt to escape.

"Why, Diedrich Meghem, you seem to be in a desperate hurry this
evening," said a voice he thought he recollected.

"What, Peter Kopplestock, are you my secret pursuer?" he asked, in a
tone of surprise.