recentor and organist, aided by Bishop Pangraz Sinzenhofer and
Blasius, the captain of the city guard, had endeavoured to collect the
papers which proved Wolf's noble birth. The package that Barbara handed
to her the evening before contained the patent of nobility newly
authorized by King Frederick at Vienna and the certificate of baptism
which proved him to be the only son of the Frank Knight Ullmann
Hartschwert and the Baroness Wendula Sandhof.

His mother's family died with her; on his father's side, as the precentor
had learned, he still had an uncle, his father's older brother, but his
castle had been destroyed during the Peasant War. He himself had
commanded for several years a large troop of mercenaries in the service
of the Queen of England, and his three children, a son and two daughters,
had entered monastic and conventual life.

The contents of the package confirmed all these statements. Moreover, the
very Dr. Hiltner, of whom Barbara's father had spoken so disagreeably,
had paid a visit the day before to Ursel, who had won the esteem of the
preceptor's old friend, and told her that he wished to talk with Wolf
about an important matter.

It afforded the young man genuine pleasure to wait upon the faithful old
woman and give her her medicine and barley-gruel. His mother had brought
him to Ratisbon when he was a little boy four years old, and Ursel at
that time had been his nurse. She had clung more closely to him than the
woman to whom he owed his life, for his mother had deserted him to take
the veil in the convent of the Sisters of St. Clare, but her maid-servant
Ursel would not part from him. So she was received by his foster parents
when they adopted him, and had served them faithfully until their deaths.

The wrinkled countenance of the old woman, who, even on her sick-bed,
retained her neat appearance, expressed shrewdness and energy.

Wolf's services were a pleasure and an honour. A grateful, affectionate
glance acknowledged each, and meanwhile he became clearly aware of the
treasure which he, the orphaned youth, possessed in this faithful old
friend.

If he saw aright, she might yet live a long time, and this gave him
heartfelt joy. With her he would lose the last witness of his childhood,
the chronicle, as it were, of his earliest youth. He could not understand
why he had never before induced her to tell him her recollections.

During his boyhood, which was crowded with work, he had been content