nderstood it thoroughly, and had initiated him into all its
rules.

For the first two years Costa had remained far in advance of his pupil,
then he was compelled to defend himself in good earnest, and now it not
unfrequently happened that the smith vanquished the scholar. True, the
latter was much quicker than the former, who if the situation became
critical, pondered over it an unconscionably long time.

Two hands more unlike had rarely met over a chess-board; one suggested
a strong, dark plough-ox, the other a light, slender-limbed palfrey. The
Israelite's figure looked small in contrast with the smith's gigantic
frame. How coarse-grained, how heavy with thought the German's big, fair
head appeared, how delicately moulded and intellectual the Portuguese
Jew's.

To-day the two men had again sat down to the game, but instead of
playing, had been talking very, very earnestly. In the course of the
conversation the doctor had left his place and was pacing restlessly to
and fro. Adam retained his seat.

His friend's arguments had convinced him. Ulrich was to be sent to
the monastery-school. Costa had also been informed of the danger that
threatened his own person, and was deeply agitated. The peril was great,
very great, yet it was hard, cruelly hard, to quit this peaceful nook.
The smith understood what was passing in his mind, and said:

"It is hard for you to go. What binds you here to the Richtberg?"

"Peace, peace!" cried the other. "And then," he added more calmly, "I
have gained land here."

"You?"

"The large and small graves behind the executioner's house, they are my
estates."

"It is hard, hard to leave them," said the smith, with drooping head.
"All this comes upon you on account of the kindness you have shown my
boy; you have had a poor reward from us."

"Reward?" asked the other, a subtle smile hovering around his lips. "I
expect none, neither from you nor fate. I belong to a poor sect, that
does not consider whether its deeds will be repaid or not. We love
goodness, set a high value on it, and practise it, so far as our power
extends, because it is so beautiful. What have men called good? Only
that which keeps the soul calm. And what is evil? That which fills it
with disquiet. I tell you, that the hearts of those who pursue virtue,
though they are driven from their homes, hunted and tortured like
noxious beasts, are more tranquil than those of their powerful
persecutors, who practise evil. He who