ted by their approach to Jena. Little Thomas Platter, who was
sitting at the table as well as Hans, listened with attentive ear to all
that was said. When Eric rose to depart, the stranger bade him a
cordial farewell.

"I too am on my way to Wittemburg," he observed, "we may meet there, I
hope, ere long, and you will then judge whether the tales that have been
told of Dr Martin are true or false."

Eric was very much interested in the stranger, and puzzled to know who
he could be.

"He is a man of learning and a man of consequence," he observed as he
rode along. "I would that I possessed one quarter of his learning. How
his countenance lights up when he speaks, and how the words flow from
his lips. He is a man to move his fellow-creatures by his eloquence, or
I mistake his looks and mode of utterance."

"What think you, my young sir, if he should prove to be Dr Martin
himself?" said Hans.

"It more than once occurred to me that such might be the case; but is
Dr Martin likely to be out in these parts, and would he be habited in
such a costume as that worn by this stranger?" asked Eric.

"It was Dr Martin notwithstanding that," exclaimed the little Platter;
"you will see, my masters, when we get to Wittemburg, you will see."

This incident added very much to the interest of the journey. They rode
on for some leagues, when, as they were not far off from the place where
they purposed resting for the night, they saw a band of horsemen
approaching them. It was easy to see by their dress and general
appearance that he who rode at their head was their lord, with two
companions of inferior rank, and that the rest were his retainers. They
had a particular swaggering look which showed that they belonged to a
class of persons common in those days, who followed the fortunes of any
lawless noble who could employ them, and were ever ready to commit any
deed of violence their master might command. Eric kept as close to one
side of the road as he could to avoid giving cause of offence. They
eyed him narrowly as he passed, and especially looked at Hans, who wore
the livery of his house.

"Who can those people be?" asked Eric. "Their looks are far from
pleasant, nor did they deign to give us the usual salutation which
courtesy demands as they rode by."

"Alas! I know them well," answered Hans. "He who rode at their head is
no other than Baron Schenk of Schweinsburg, your father's greatest and,
I may say, only enemy