ave known each other so long that,
last spring, we might have celebrated the fiftieth anniversary of our
first meeting. When that occurred, we were both of the same age--he a
soldier in the fortress in which I was confined as a political
prisoner. For one hour every day I was permitted to leave my cell for a
short walk on the parapet. On those occasions a soldier with loaded
musket walked behind me; and it often happened that this duty was
assigned to Rothfuss. His orders were not to speak to me; but he did
so, nevertheless. He was constantly muttering to himself in an
indistinct manner. This habit of talking to himself has clung to him
through life, and I doubt if any human being has a greater fund of
curses than he.

One day, while he was thus walking behind me, I heard him say quite
distinctly: "Now I know who you are! Oh!"--and then came fearful
oaths--"O! to imprison such a man! You are the son of the forest-keeper
of our district! Why, we are from the very same part of the country! I
have often worked with your father. He was a hard man, but a just one;
a German of the old sort."

"I am not allowed to accept money from you, but if you were to happen
to lose some, there would be no harm in my finding it."

"Of course you smoke? I shall buy a pipe, tobacco, and a tinder-box for
you, and what you give me over the amount will not be too much for me."

From that day, Rothfuss did me many a service. He knew how to
circumvent the jailer,--a point on which we easily silenced our
scruples. Five years later I regained my freedom, and when I settled on
this estate, Rothfuss, as if anticipating my wishes, was at my side.
Since that time he has been with us constantly, and has proved a
faithful servant to me, as well as the favorite of my children.

I had inherited the estate and the grand house upon it from my
father-in-law. As I was a forester's son, I found but few difficulties
in attending to the timber land, but the two saw-mills and the farm
that belonged to the estate gave me much trouble. For this reason, so
faithful and expert an assistant as Rothfuss was doubly welcome to me.

He is a wheelwright by trade, and can attend to anything that requires
to be done about the house. Near the shed, he built a little smithy,
and my boys were his faithful apprentices. They never asked for toys,
for they were always helping him in making some article of use. But my
son Richard had no liking for manual labor. He was a dreamy