behind when they emigrated to America.

"The gifts that we had received, had enabled us to buy cooking
utensils, coverings for our moss beds, and a goat; and of food we could
always have plenty.

"The summers were pleasant, but the winters were not so. We caught many
birds, which served as food.

"I was also sent to school, and it was quite humiliating to me to be
always told that I was a 'Jew girl.' I did not know what was meant by
Jew, but I knew, that it was intended as a term of disgrace. I am not
sure, but I think my mother was a Catholic.

"And thus I grew up and could wield the axe as well as the strongest
wood-cutter; and no one dared to lay a finger on me.

"You might blind-fold me, and I could, by my sense of smell, recognize
trees or their leaves. I carried a serpent's egg on my person; I had
found it one morning between eleven and twelve, and had pocketed it. I
had also a gift of finding wild honey, and the bees never harmed me
when I took the combs. I was once employed that way, when Ernst came up
to me. He acted as if he were about to punish me for what I had done;
but I told him that this was not breaking of the laws of the forest,
and that it was not poaching. And then he said to me, 'You are wild
honey yourself.'

"Thus Ernst found me and brought me here, where I now am. But I do not
deserve it. They say that Ernst is in Algiers, with the wild Turks.
Give me some money that I may go to him--I can find him.

"But tell me now, Ludwig, how do you know that my mother is in
America?"

"I know nothing of it; I simply guessed so, because you always have
such a fear of America."

"So you are the son of such parents--and yet can lie? Your mother in
heaven will never forgive you for that."

Ludwig was moved by this apostrophe, and asked Martella to forgive him.
She nodded assent and shook hands with him and with me, saying at the
same time: "Father, I shall do nothing more but what you tell me to do.
I shall never again act of my own free will."

"Were you always called Martella?" inquired Ludwig.

"No."

"How, then?"

"Conradine."

"Who gave you the name of Martella?"

"Jaegerlies."

"Why?"

"Because, she said, 'No one will know you by that name, and if they
seek you they cannot find you.'"

"But how did she chance on that name?"

"That you ought to have asked her. And that is enough. Good-night."

Martella walked away.

Ludwig afterward told me that he had been making inquiries ov