r Calmus does not speak well of the
Duke. He is also said to have been a spy between Hutten and Frau
Sabina, and only undertook the care of the dog for the purpose of
remaining in the castle to carry on intrigues."

"Really! was he in correspondence with Hutten?" said one of the
burghers; "if we had but known that, he should not have come off so
cheaply, the vagabond doctor; for Hutten's amorous intrigue is the
cause of this unhappy war; and it appears that this Kahlmaueser assisted
him in it!"

"_De mortuis nil nisi bonum_,--we ought to spare the dead, say the
Latins," replied the fat man; "the poor devil has paid his crime dear
enough with his life."

"It served him right," cried the other burgher, angrily; "had I been in
the Duke's place I would have done the same; every one must protect his
domestic rights."

"Do not you ride sometimes hunting with the bailiff?" asked the fat
man, with a peculiar crafty smile: "you surely have the best
opportunity to assert your rights; you possess a sword, and could
easily find an oak tree to hang a corpse upon."

A loud laugh from the burghers of Pfullingen apprised the stranger in
the balcony, that the jealous upholder of domestic rights was not so
well able to administer justice in his own house. He coloured up, and
murmured some unintelligible words as he put his can to his mouth.

The pedlar, however, who, as a stranger, thought it not courteous to
join in the laugh, took his part: "Yes, indeed, the Duke was quite in
the right, for he had the power of hanging Hutten upon the spot,
without giving him a chance of his life in fair honourable fight. Is he
not president of the Westphalian chair, and of the secret tribunal,
which gives him the power of dispatching villanous fellows without
further ceremony? Had he not the best proof of his treachery before his
eyes? Have you ever heard a pretty little song upon that subject? I'll
sing a couple of verses, if you like:

"In the forest he turn'd him to Hutten, to know,
What't was on his hand that glittered so?"
"Lord Duke, it is this little ring you see,
This ring which my sweet love gave to me."

"Hey, Hans, by my troth thou art nobly drest,
A chain of gold, too, lies on thy breast."
"That, too, my true love gave so free,
A pledge that she would remember me."

"And then it goes on:

"Oh! Hutten, away! nor spare the