message of love from her betrothed husband, whom
Katterle had seen in perfect health and under the best care in the
Zollern castle, delivered to the indignant girl the letter which Wolff
had entrusted to the maid. Els hurried with the missive so impatiently
expected to the window in the hall, through which the sun, not yet
reached by the rising clouds, was shining, and as it contained nothing
save tender words of love which proved that her betrothed husband firmly
relied upon her fidelity and, come what might, would not give her up,
she returned to the pair, and hurriedly, but in a more kindly tone,
informed them that her father was greatly incensed against both, but
she would try to soften him. At present he was in his office with Herr
Casper Eysvogel; Biberli might wait in the kitchen till the latter went
away.

Els then entered the sick-chamber, but Biberli put his hand under his
sweetheart's chin, bent her head back gently, and said: "Now you see how
Biberli and other clever people manage. The best is kept until the last.
The result of the first throw matters little, only he who wins the last
goes home content. To know how to choose the bait is also an art. The
trout bites at the fly, the pike at the worm, and a yearning maiden at
her lover's letter. Take notice! To-day, which began with such cruel
sorrow, will yet have a tolerable end."

"Nay," cried Katterle, nudging him angrily with her elbow, "we never
had a day begin more happily for us. The gold with which we can set up
housekeeping--"

"Oh, yes," interrupted Biberli, "the zecchins and gold florins are
certainly no trifle. Much can be bought with them. But Schorlin Castle
razed to the ground, my master's lady mother and Fraulein Maria held as
half captives in the convent, to say nothing of the light-hearted Prince
Hartmann and Sir Heinz's piteous grief--if all these things could be
undone, child, I should not think the bag of gold, and another into
the bargain, too high a price to pay for it. What is the use of a house
filled with fine furniture when the heart is so full of sorrow? At home
we all eat together out of a cracked clay dish across which a tinker had
drawn a wire, with rude wooden spoons made by my father, yet how we all
relished it!--what more did we want?"

As he spoke he drew her into the kitchen, where he found a friendly
reception.

True, the Ortlieb servants were attached to their employers and
sincerely sorry for the ill health of the