the gainers at our expense. We paid the
same for a less quantity. The consequence of this species of tyranny
gave rise to a circumstance which, commencing at first in mere joke,
became a source of bitter hatred and revenge. Many could not bear the
thought of this act of flagrant injustice, by which every one else had
full weight and measure, whilst we alone, the peasantry, were the
sufferers. Poor Conrad carried the weights into the valley of the Rems,
and made a proof by water."

"A proof by water,--what's that?" asked the young man.

"Ha!" laughed Hans, "that is an easy way of proving a thing. A stone of
a pound weight was paraded to the sound of drum and fife to the banks
of the Kerns, and they said, 'if it swims, the Duke is right; if it
sinks, the peasant is right.' The stone sank, and Poor Conrad armed
himself. All the peasants then rose in the vallies of the Rems and
Neckar, and throughout all the country up to Tuebingen far over the Alb,
and demanded the old laws. The members of the diet were assembled and
harangued them, but all to no purpose, they would not disperse."

"But you--what part did you take? You; don't say a word about
yourself," said Albert.

"That's said in a very few words," replied Hans: "I was one of the most
violent among them. Never being much inclined to work, and having been
inhumanly punished for transgressing the game laws, I joined Poor
Conrad, and soon became as desperate as Gaispeter and Bregenzer. The
Duke, seeing that the insurrection was becoming dangerous, came himself
to Schorndorf. We had been called to that place for the purpose of
swearing allegiance. Many hundreds appeared, but all armed. Ulerich
addressed us himself; but we would not hear him. The marshal of the
empire then stood up, and raising his gold staff said, 'He who holds to
Duke Ulerich von Wuertemberg, let him come over to his side!' Gaispeter
also stepping upon a large stone, cried, 'He who holds to Poor Conrad
of Hungry Hill, come over here!' The Duke stood alone among his
servants, deserted by his people: we, the opposite party, remained with
the beggar."

"Oh, what a shameful transaction," cried Albert, moved by a feeling of
the injustice which caused it, "but more particularly so in those who
allowed it to go to such lengths! I'll be bound Ambrosius Bolland, the
chancellor, was mostly to blame in it."

"You are not far wrong," replied the fifer; "but hear me. When the Duke
saw that all was lost, he thre