y to buy it. Not only in Compostella,
but also on the long journey from Bavaria through the Swiss mountains,
France, Navarre, and the whole of northern Spain, there were always
kind-hearted or timid people from whom the money for the "dear
prescription" could be obtained.

A cart drawn by a donkey conveyed the child of this worthy couple. When
Kuni met her at Compostella she was a sickly little girl about two years
old, with an unnaturally large head and thin, withered legs, who seemed
to be mute because she used her mouth only to eat and to make a movement
of the lips which sounded like "Baba." This sound, Cyriax explained, was
a call that meant "papa." That was the name aristocratic children gave
their fathers, and it meant him alone, because the little girl resembled
him and loved him better than she did any one else. He really believed
this, and the stammering of the fragile child's livid lips won the rough
fellow's tender love.

The man who, when drunk, beat his wife till the blood came, and
committed plenty of cruel deeds, trembled, wept, and could even pray
with fervent piety, when--which often happened--the frail little
creature, shaken by convulsions, seemed at the point of death. He had
undertaken the long journey to the "world's end," not only because the
pilgrimage to Compostella promised large profits, but also to urge St.
James to cure his child. For his "sweet little Juli's" sake, and to
obtain for her a cheap nurse who would be entirely dependent upon him,
he burdened himself with the lame ropedancer. But he had no reason to
repent this; Gitta had enough to do to lead him by the chain and answer
the questions of the people, while Kuni nursed her charge with rare
fidelity, mended the clothing of the father, mother, and child, as well
or as badly as she could, and also helped Gitta with the cooking. The
sickly, obstinate little girl certainly did not deserve the name of
a "sweet" child, yet Kuni devoted herself to it with warm, almost
passionate affection.

The vagabond couple did not fail to notice this, and, on the whole, it
pleased them. If Cyriax was vexed when little Juli began to show plainly
enough that she preferred her nurse even to him, he submitted because
the lame girl watched the child through severe attacks of convulsions
and fever as if it were her own, and willingly sacrificed her night's
rest for its sake. True, he often talked loudly enough in Kuni's
presence of the witch potion which