t the same time,
Conrad is so good-humoured, and so thoroughly straight-forward and
honourable, that one can't be vexed with him. In fact I must say that,
in spite of his wildness, _I_ like him better than Reinhold, almost;
for though he _does_ often speak roughly, yet one always understands
what he is saying. I would wager he has once been a soldier, however he
may pretend to disguise himself now. That's why he knows so well about
weapons, and the knightly exercises, which become him so well. Now tell
me, truly and sincerely, Rosa dear, which of them do you like the
best?"

"Don't be so crafty with me, Frau Martha," Rosa replied. "One thing is
certain--that I don't feel at all as you do about Friedrich. It is
quite true that he is of quite a different sort to the others. When he
talks, it seems as if some beautiful garden opened upon one, full of
lovely flowers, blossoms, and fruit, the like of which are not to be
found on earth; but it delights me to look into this garden. And many
things strike me quite differently since Reinhold has been here. Many
things which were dim and formless in my mind have grown so distinct
and clear, that I can see them and understand them perfectly."

Frau Martha got up, and, as she departed, she threatened Rosa with
uplifted finger, saying, "Well, Rosa! I suppose Reinhold is to be the
one: I never should have dreamt he would have been."

"I beg and pray you, Martha dear, neither dream, nor anticipate
anything. Leave it all to the future. What the future brings will be
the will of Heaven, and to that we must all submit with resignation."

Meanwhile things were very stirring in Master Martin's workshop. To
enable him to execute all his commissions he had taken on fresh hands
and a few apprentices, and there was such a banging and hammering going
on that it was audible far and wide. Reinhold had made out all the
measurements for the Bishop of Bamberg's great vat, and set it up so
cleverly that Master Martin's heart laughed in his body, and he cried
out, over and over again, "_that_ I _do_ call a piece of work! that's
going to be a cask such as I never turned out before--always excepting
my _own_ masterpiece." The three journeymen, hooping the cask, were
hammering till the whole place rang. Old Valentine was shaving away
busily with the hollowing-cramp. Frau Martha, with her two youngest
children in her lap, was sitting just behind Conrad, while the others
were playing and chasing each o