him. And there was Ruodi of Gaenzelstein, as has got a big farm of his
own, and Casper Thinglen with fifteen hundred a-comin' to him when his
grandfather dies; and you sendin' them both off with worse grace than
if they had been beggars askin' you for a shillin'. Now, stop your
snivellin' there, I tell you. You are like your poor sainted
father,--God bless him where he lies,--he too used to cry, likely
enough, if a flea bit him."

At this moment Mother Uberta's monologue was interrupted by a loud
rapping on the door; she bent down to attach the unfinished thread
properly, but before she had completed this delicate operation, the
door was opened, and two men entered. Seeing that they were strangers
she sent them a startled glance, which presently changed into one of
defiance. The fire was low, and the two men stood but dimly defined in
the dusky light; but their city attire showed at once that they were
not Tyrolese. And Mother Uberta, having heard many awful tales of what
city-dressed men were capable of doing, had a natural distrust of the
species.

"And pray, sir, what may your errand be?" she asked sternly, taking
the burning pine-knot from its crack and holding it close to the face
of the tallest stranger.

"My name is Hahn, madam," answered the person whose broad expanse of
countenance was thus suddenly illuminated, "and this is my son, Mr.
Fritz Hahn. Allow me to assure you, madam, that our errand here is a
most peaceful and friendly one, and that we deeply regret it, if our
presence incommodes you."

"Ilka, light the candles," said Mother Uberta, sullenly. "And you,"
she continued, turning again to Mr. Hahn, "find yourself a seat, until
we can see what you look like."

"What a vixen of an old woman!" whispered the proprietor of the "Haute
Noblesse" to his son, as they seated themselves on the hard wooden
bench near the window.

"Small chance for the 'Haute Noblesse,' I fear," responded Fritz,
flinging his travelling cap on the clean-scoured deal table.

Ilka, who in the meanwhile had obeyed her mother's injunction, now
came forward with two lighted tallow dips, stuck in shining brass
candle-sticks, and placed them on the table before the travellers. She
made a neat little courtesy before each of them, to which they
responded with patronizing nods.

"_Parbleu! Elle est charmante_!" exclaimed Fritz, fixing a bold stare
on the girl's blushing face.

"_Bien charmante_," replied Mr. Hahn, who took a great