cording to his infatuated way of thinking,
had come upon him. The only thing that can declare the verdict of the
tribunal within him is the course of action he adopted; and perhaps,
kindly reader, this tribunal faltered for the first time. Here is the
place to offer a brief remark, which, perhaps, would not very well lend
itself for insertion later. As so frequently happens in such cases, old
Barbara had interfered in the matter, and been very urgent in her
accusations of the loving pair to Master Wacht, making it a special
charge against them that they had always read worldly books together.
The Master caused her to bring two or three of the books which Nanni
had. One was a work of Goethe's; unfortunately it is not known which
work it was. After turning over the leaves, he gave it back to Barbara,
that she might restore it to the place whence she had secretly taken
it. Not a single word about Nanni's reading ever escaped him; once
only, when some seasonable occasion presented at dinner, did he say,
"There is a remarkable mind rising up amongst us Germans; God grant him
success! My days are over; such things are not for my age, nor yet for
my calling; but you--Jonathan? I envy you many things that will come to
light in the days to come." Jonathan understood Wacht's oracular words
the more easily, since some days previously he had discovered by chance
_Goetz von Berlichingen_[15] lying on the Master's work-table, half
covered by other papers. Wacht's great mind, whilst acknowledging the
uncommon genius of the new writer, had also perceived the impossibility
of beginning a new flight himself.

Next day poor Nanni hung her head like a sick dove. "What's the matter
with my dear child?" asked Master Wacht in the tender sympathetic tone
that was so peculiarly his own, and with which he knew how to stir
everybody's heart, "what's the matter with my dear child? are you ill?
I can't believe it. You don't get out into the fresh air sufficiently.
See here now; I have a long time been wishing you would for once in a
way bring me my tea out to the workshop. Do so to-day; we may expect a
most beautiful evening. You will come, won't you, Nanni, my darling?
You will butter me some rolls yourself--that will make them ever so
good." Therewith Master Wacht took the dear girl in his arms and
stroked her brown curls back from her forehead, and he kissed her and
pressed her to his heart, and tenderly caressed her,--treating her, in
fact, in