aid: "Count Frohlinger is within."

Adam turned pale, pressed his son so convulsively to his breast that he
groaned with pain, sent a laybrother to call Father Benedict, confided
his child to him, and walked towards home with drooping head.

Hitherto Ulrich had not known whether to enjoy or dread the thought
of going to the monastery-school. The preparations had been pleasant
enough, and the prospect of sharing the same bench with the sons of
noblemen and aristocratic citizens, flattered his unity; but when he
saw his father depart, his heart melted and his eyes grew wet. The monk;
noticing this, drew him towards him, patted his shoulder, and said:
"Keep up your courage! You will see that it is far pleasanter with us,
than down in the Richtberg."

This gave Ulrich food for thought, and he did not glance around as the
Father led him up the steep stairs to the landing-place, and past the
refectory into the court-yard.

Monks were pacing silently up and down the corridors that surrounded it,
and one after another raised his shaven head higher over his white cowl,
to cast a look at the new pupil.

Behind the court-yard stood the stately, gable-roofed building
containing the guest-rooms, and between it and the church lay the
school-garden, a meadow planted with fruit trees, separated from the
highway by a wall.

Benedictus opened the wooden gate, and pushed Ulrich into the
playground.

The noise there had been loud enough, but at his entrance the game
stopped, and his future companions nudged each other, scanning him with
scrutinizing glances.

The monk beckoned to several of the pupils, and made them acquainted
with the smith's son, then stroking Ulrich's curls again, left him alone
with the others.

On St. John's day the boys were given their liberty and allowed to play
to their hearts' content.

They took no special notice of Ulrich, and after having stared
sufficiently and exchanged a few words with him, continued their
interrupted game of trying to throw stones over the church roof.

Meantime Ulrich looked at his comrades.

There were large and small, fair and dark lads among them, but not one
with whom he could not have coped. To this point his scrutiny was first
directed.

At last he turned his attention to the game. Many of the stones, that
had been thrown, struck the slates on the roof; not one had passed over
the church. The longer the unsuccessful efforts lasted, the more
evident became the super