unger
and want. Besides, the gold had been fairly burning her hand. It came
from Lienhard. Had it not been for Cyriax and the crowd of people in the
room, she would have made him take it back--she alone knew why.

How did this happen?

Why did every fibre of her being rebel against receiving even the
smallest trifle from the man to whom she would gladly have given the
whole world? Why, after she had summoned up courage and approached
Lienhard to restore his gift, had she felt such keen resentment and
bitter suffering when the landlord of The Blue Pike stopped her?

As she now seized his gold, it seemed as though she saw Lienhard before
her. She had already told Cyriax how she met the aristocratic Nuremberg
patrician, a member of the ancient and noble Groland family, whom his
native city had now made an ambassador so young. But what secretly bound
her to him had never passed her lips.

Once in her life she had felt something which placed her upon an equal
footing with the best and purest of her sex--a great love for one from
whom she asked nothing, nothing at all, save to be permitted to think
of him and to sacrifice everything, everything for him--even life. So
strange had been the course of this love, that people would have doubted
her sanity or her truthfulness had she described it to them.

While standing before St. Sebald's church in Nuremberg, the vision of
the young Councillor's bride at first made a far stronger impression
upon her mind than his own. Then her gaze rested on Lienhard. As he had
chosen the fairest of women, the bride had also selected the tallest,
most stately, and certainly the best and wisest of men. During her
imprisonment the image of this rare couple had been constantly before
her. Not until, through the young husband's intercession, she had
regained her liberty, after he prevented her kissing his hand and, to
soothe her, had stroked her hair and cheeks in the magistrate's room,
did the most ardent gratitude take possession of her soul. From this
emotion, which filled heart and mind, a glowing wealth of other feelings
had blossomed like buds upon a rosebush. Everything in her nature had
attracted her toward him, and the desire to devote herself to him, body
and soul, shed the last drop of blood in her heart for him, completely
ruled her. His image rose before her day and night, sometimes alone,
sometimes with his beautiful bride. Not only to him, but to her also she
would joyfully have re