eau. Old Count von Hochburg had invited Moor
to be his guest, and the painter intended to spend the night at the
castle. Pellicanus was to take care of the boy, and if necessary send
for the surgeon again. An hour after, the sick jester lay shivering in
his bed, coughing before sleeping and between naps. Ulrich too could
obtain no slumber.

At first he wept softly, for he now clearly realized, for the first
time, that he had lost his father and should never see Ruth, the doctor,
nor the doctor's dumb wife Elizabeth again. Then he wondered how he had
come to Einmendingen, what sort of a place it was, and who the queer
little man could be, who had taken him for a young noble--the quaint
little man with the cough, and a big head, whose eyes sparkled
so through his tears. The jester's mistake made him laugh, and he
remembered that Ruth had once advised him to command the "word," to
transform him into a count.

Suppose he should say to-morrow, that his father had been a knight?

But the wicked thought only glided through his mind; even before he had
reflected upon it, he felt ashamed of himself, for he was no liar.

Deny his father! That was very wrong, and when he stretched himself
out to sleep, the image of the valiant smith stood with tangible
distinctness before his soul. Gravely and sternly he floated upon
clouds, and looked exactly like the pictures Ulrich had seen of God the
Father, only he wore the smith's cap on his grey hair. Even in Paradise,
the glorified spirit had not relinquished it.

Ulrich raised his hands as if praying, but hastily let them fall again,
for there was a great stir outside of the inn. The tramp of steeds,
the loud voices of men, the sound of drums and fifes were audible, then
there was rattling, marching and shouting in the court-yard.

"A room for the clerk of the muster-roll and paymaster!" cried a voice.

"Gently, gently, children!" said the deep tones of the provost, who was
the leader, counsellor and friend of the Lansquenets. "A devout servant
must not bluster at the holy Christmas-tide; he's permitted to drink a
glass, Heaven be praised. Your house is to be greatly honored, Landlord!
The recruiting for our most gracious commander, Count von Oberstein,
is--to be done here. Do you hear, man! Everything to be paid for in
cash, and not a chicken will be lost; but the wine must be good! Do
you understand? So this evening broach a cask of your best. Pardon me,
children--the very best,