lting-furnace." "Yes, my good brave son," replied Master
Martin, his eyes sparkling with joy, "yes, finish your masterpiece, and
then we'll have the wedding."

Frederick kept his word faithfully, and finished the two-tun cask; and
all the masters declared that it would be no easy task to do a finer
piece of work, whereat Master Martin was delighted down to the ground,
and was moreover of opinion that Providence could not have found for
him a more excellent son-in-law.

At length the wedding day was come, Frederick's masterpiece stood in
the entrance hall filled with rich wine, and crowned with garlands. The
masters of the trade, with the syndic Jacobus Paumgartner at their
head, put in an appearance along with their housewives, followed by the
master goldsmiths. All was ready for the procession to begin its march
to St. Sebald's Church, where the pair were to be married, when a sound
of trumpets was heard in the street, and a neighing and stamping of
horses before Martin's house. Master Martin hastened to the bay-window.
It was Herr Heinrich von Spangenberg, in gay holiday attire, who
had pulled up in front of the house; a few paces behind him, on a
high-spirited horse, sat a young and splendid knight, his glittering
sword at his side, and high-coloured feathers in his baretta, which was
also adorned with flashing jewels. Beside the knight, Herr Martin
perceived a wondrously beautiful lady, likewise splendidly dressed,
seated on a jennet the colour of fresh-fallen snow. Pages and
attendants in brilliant coats formed a circle round about them. The
trumpet ceased, and old Herr von Spangenberg shouted up to him, "Aha!
aha! Master Martin, I have not come either for your wine cellar or for
your gold pieces, but only because it is Rose's wedding day. Will you
let me in, good master?" Master Martin remembered his own words very
well, and was a little ashamed of himself; but he hurried down to
receive the Junker. The old gentleman dismounted, and after greeting
him, entered the house. Some of the pages sprang forward, and upon
their arms the lady slipped down from her palfrey; the knight gave her
his hand and followed the old gentleman. But when Master Martin looked
at the young knight he recoiled three paces, struck his hands together,
and cried, "Good God! Conrad!" "Yes, Master Martin," said the knight,
smiling, "I am indeed your journeyman Conrad. Forgive me for the wound
I inflicted on you. But you see, my good master, tha