ad overheard him, exclaimed to Christopher, "What means
the libertine by those impious words?"

"The heathen god, Bacchus, can best tell that," replied Christopher,
while with a quiet laugh he filled the goblet again. "To explain what a
drunkard means one must be drunk one's self, and I, thank God, have
kept myself sober, to be able to see that all goes on right."

"That last glass was one too much," said Schindel reproachfully. "You
should not have given him any thing more to drink. If now he should do
any mischief in his drunkenness?"

"I know my brother better. When he is half drunk, he is always ready to
quarrel; but with a full lading he soon grows sleepy, and one gets a
respite from him. I gave him the glass purposely as a sleeping
draught."

"I have no faith in your expedient," said Schindel, looking for his
cap; "and, as the sun is setting, you must allow me to take my leave."

"Not yet, not yet, cousin," entreated Christopher, trying to persuade
the old knight to sit down again. "I'll not let you go till we have
emptied this flask of Tokay to the bottom."

"I must put it off till another time: your brother's face does not
please me again to-day, and _better prevented than lamented_. Do you
see and get him to bed."

During this, the betrothed pair had finished their dance, and,
observing Schindel's farewell, took it for a signal to follow, and bade
adieu to their host accordingly. Francis came up to them: "What means
this breaking-up, old man? It is bad enough that you leave us so early,
but it would be a downright wrong to rob us of such sprightly dancers."

"We must, indeed, go," anxiously insisted Althea, perceiving the state
of Francis. "I have a messenger to send to-day to our steward at
Bogendorf, and it is on business that admits of no delay."

"Well, if you go, the best of the pleasure goes," said Francis
gallantly. "I had rather not stay either, and will pay an hour's visit
to the bowling-green: they bowl there to-day for a bacon-hog. Come with
me, brother Tausdorf; it is still far from evening, and _you_ have not
got a messenger to send to Boegendorf."

"I am no player," said the knight, excusing himself.

"Nor I, brother," replied Francis, and took Tausdorf's arm familiarly
in his; "at least I don't love this push-pin work. It is another thing
when one can stake life and limb upon the hazard; then, indeed, I am
for you. But we'll not bowl, only look on and see how the poor devils
fag them