n this
house; for he has come as far as here after his stray dogs; and I make
all welcome, sir, without account of state or nation. And, indeed,
between Gerolstein and Grunewald the peace has held so long that the
roads stand open like my door; and a man will make no more of the
frontier than the very birds themselves.'

'Ay,' said Otto, 'it has been a long peace--a peace of centuries.'

'Centuries, as you say,' returned Killian; 'the more the pity that it
should not be for ever. Well, sir, this Kuno was one day in fault, and
Otto, who has a quick temper, up with his whip and thrashed him, they do
say, soundly. Kuno took it as best he could, but at last he broke out,
and dared the Prince to throw his whip away and wrestle like a man; for
we are all great at wrestling in these parts, and it's so that we
generally settle our disputes. Well, sir, the Prince did so; and, being
a weakly creature, found the tables turned; for the man whom he had just
been thrashing like a negro slave, lifted him with a back grip and threw
him heels overhead.'

'He broke his bridle-arm,' cried Fritz--'and some say his nose. Serve
him right, say I! Man to man, which is the better at that?'

'And then?' asked Otto.

'O, then Kuno carried him home; and they were the best of friends from
that day forth. I don't say it's a discreditable story, you observe,'
continued Mr. Gottesheim; 'but it's droll, and that's the fact. A man
should think before he strikes; for, as my nephew says, man to man was
the old valuation.'

'Now, if you were to ask me,' said Otto, 'I should perhaps surprise you.
I think it was the Prince that conquered.'

'And, sir, you would be right,' replied Killian seriously. 'In the eyes
of God, I do not question but you would be right; but men, sir, look at
these things differently, and they laugh.'

'They made a song of it,' observed Fritz. 'How does it go? Ta-tum-ta-ra
. . .'

'Well,' interrupted Otto, who had no great anxiety to hear the song, 'the
Prince is young; he may yet mend.'

'Not so young, by your leave,' cried Fritz. 'A man of forty.'

'Thirty-six,' corrected Mr. Gottesheim.

'O,' cried Ottilia, in obvious disillusion, 'a man of middle age! And
they said he was so handsome when he was young!'

'And bald, too,' added Fritz.

Otto passed his hand among his locks. At that moment he was far from
happy, and even the tedious evenings at Mittwalden Palace began to smile
upon him by comparison.