mes said to himself, "Well, if he _is_ a
pitiable doubter, he at least doubts in earnest. This makes him better
than the miserable tric-trac men who are always ready to agree that
black is white, or deny that two and two make four, when it suits their
convenience or interest."

And, in fact, though Brent often paraded his agnosticism merely to draw
forth the professor's scornful comments, he really had a humble and
hopeless consciousness that if truth be visible to any human mind it was
hidden from his. The possession of an ample fortune and the lack of
family ties and active interests in life had fostered his tendency
toward introspection till it became morbid. Now, at the age of thirty,
he had no positive beliefs or aims, and felt the despairing
self-contempt which inspired Hamlet's cry, "What should such fellows as
I do, crawling between earth and heaven?"

Before retiring, the travellers agreed to spend the next day in making
an excursion on foot to the neighboring mountains. But when the hour for
starting arrived, Brent had not risen, and the professor, who allowed
nothing to interfere with his plans if he could help it, set out alone.

A little before sunset he returned, full of enthusiasm over the scenery,
and highly pleased with the people in the farm-houses where he had
stopped.

"They are a good, honest, _kreuzbraves Volk_," he said. "They have kept
the old German home-feeling all unchanged. There is a certain Baernthaler
over there at the foot of the mountains who is worthy to be a native of
the Fatherland,--a noble-looking fellow, with the lion-front of a young
Marcomannic chief."

"The Marcomanni were a Suevic race, were they not?"

"Yes; I should have known his ancestors were dark-haired Swabians even
if he had not told me so. He is something of a scholar, I should say,
and he seems as true a gentleman as ever lived. What a shame it is that
his good South-German name should have been corrupted into Barndollar!"

"I heard this Barndollar's praises sounded about three hours ago."

"By whom?"

"By the father of Miss Reinfelter, the mild-eyed blonde who had her
doubts about the ability of buffaloes to climb trees. He was here this
afternoon, and we became intimate in five minutes. He told me his
ancestors came from the neighborhood of Heidelberg; and when he heard I
was there last summer his expansive face was illumined with joy. He
answered my questions about the old German settlers intelligently
e