n with the device of the Germanians.

"There stood the Count in his white shirt in the pose of a statue. And
when it was seen that Richter likewise had no protection, but was calmly
smoking the little short pipe, with a charred bowl, a hush fell upon
all. At the sight of the pipe von Kalbach ground his heel in the turf,
and when the word was given he rushed at Richter like a wild beast. You,
my friend, who have never heard the whistle of sharp Schlager cannot
know the song which a skilled arm draws from the blade. It was music
that morning: You should have seen the noble's mighty strokes--'Prim und
Second und Terz und Quart'. You would have marked how Richter met him
at every blow. Von Kalbach never once took his eyes from the blue smoke
from the bowl. He was terrible in his fury, and I shiver now to think
how we of the Burschenschaft trembled when we saw that our champion was
driven back a step, and then another. You must know that it is a lasting
disgrace to be forced over one's own line. It seemed as if we could not
bear the agony. And then, while we counted out the last seconds of the
half, came a snap like that of a whip's lash, and the bowl of Richter's
pipe lay smouldering on the grass. The noble had cut the stem as clean
as it were sapling twig, and there stood Richter with the piece still
clenched in his teeth, his eyes ablaze, and his cheek running blood. He
pushed the surgeon away when he came forward with his needles. The Count
was smiling as he put up his sword, his friends crowding around
him, when Ebhardt cried out that his man could fight the second
mensur,--though the wound was three needles long. Then Kalbach cried
aloud that he would kill him. But he had not seen Carl's eyes. Something
was in them that made us think as we washed the cut. But when we spoke
to him he said nothing. Nor could we force the pipe stems from his
teeth.

"Donner Schock!" exclaimed Herr Korner, but reverently, "if I live to a
hundred I never hope to see such a sight as that 'Mensur'. The word was
given. The Schlager flew so fast that we only saw the light and heard
the ring alone. Before we of the Burschenschaft knew what had happened
the Count von Kalbach was over his line and had flung his Schlager into
a great tree, and was striding from the place with his head hung and the
tears streamin down his face."

Amid a silence, Herr Korner lifted his great mug and emptied it slowly.
A wind was rising, bearing with it song and lau