Gods!" interrupted Mohr in a tone of horror, which warned by
a glance from Edwin, he instantly tried to convert into one of
drollery--"have you shut yourselves up here like oysters? Well, a
sedentary life has its attractions, and the air in the 'tun' does not
seem to be quite so dry as formerly. At any rate the best plum cake
grows here, and I see yonder a dozen red heads, with whose assistance
one can hold out for a while."

"A basket of wine?" asked Edwin "In spite of my positive refusal----"

"Marquard sent it, he would take no denial," said Balder. "And," he
added blushing, "as I felt a little weak toward noon, I opened a
bottle."

"Weak, child?" cried Edwin, forgetting everything else, as he hastily
approached him. "Was it your old pain, or some new trouble? And why do
I first hear of it now?"

"It wasn't worth mentioning, Edwin. But Marquard was right, I felt
better at once. The wine seems very pure and good, you ought----"

"So much the better, if it agrees with you. And you're right, I don't
see why we should not drink our old friend's wine. If _we_ had it, and
_he_ needed it, wouldn't it be a matter of course?"

Franzelius looked at him with sparkling eyes. One of his pet theories
was that of possessing all property in common, a theory which he
practised until he had reduced himself to the barest necessaries.
Meantime Mohr had again filled Balder's glass from the already opened
bottle. He emptied it at a single draught, then poured out more wine
and offered it to Franzelius.

"Very fair," said he. "Your health, Franzelius Gracchus. Let's drown all
quarrelsome and murderous inclinations for to-day, and commence the
business of making mankind happy, with ourselves."

"Thank you," replied the printer, "I shall never drink wine, so
long----"

"What? No wine? Then you're no true friend of the people. They're
always thirsty. But no matter! I'll forgive Marquard his carriage and
patronizing bow, for the sake of his cellar. If he himself has but
mediocre ability as a man and a doctor, his wine is excellent, real St.
Julien.

"Where's our other glass?" said Edwin, looking around the room. "We
really have another, Heinrich, and in a carouse of three tipplers----"

The flush on Balder's cheeks deepened, and he stooped as if he were
searching for the missing glass on the floor.

"Of what consequence is the glass?" cried Mohr, who meantime had
attacked the cake and now had his mouth full. "The liquor's the