ce, rising from his chair, "do you really love Friedrich?"

"Ah!" said Rosa in a whisper, "I cannot hide it any longer--I love him
as my life! My heart was broken when you sent him away."

"Take your wife to your heart then, Friedrich, Yes, yes, I say
it--_your wife_," Master Martin cried out.

Paumgartner and Holzschuer looked at each other, lost in amazement; but
Master Martin, holding the cup in his hands, went on, and said, "Oh
Father of Heaven! has not everything turned out exactly as the old lady
prophesied it should? 'A House resplendent and gleaming he shall to thy
dwelling bring; streams of sweet savour flowing therein; beauteous
angels sing full sweetly; he whom thy heart goeth forth to needless to
ask of thy father, this is thy Bridegroom beloved!' Oh fool that I have
been! this is the bright little House! here are the angels, the
bridegroom! Aha! gentlemen, my friends and patrons--my son-in-law is
found!"

Whosoever has at any time been under the spell of an evil dream, and
thought he was lying in the deep, black darkness of the grave, and then
has suddenly awakened in the bright spring-time, all perfume, sunshine
and song, and she who is dearest to him on earth has come and put her
arms about him, while he looked up into the heaven of her beautiful
face--that person will understand how Friedrich felt--will comprehend
the exuberance of his blissfulness. Unable to utter a word, he held
Rosa fast in his arms as if he would never let her go, till she gently
extricated herself from his embrace, and led him to her father. He then
found words, and cried:

"Oh, dear master, is this really true, then? Do you give me Rosa for my
wife, and may I go back to my own art?"

"Yes, yes, believe it!" answered Master Martin. "What else is there
that I can do? You have fulfilled my mother's prophecy, and your
masterpiece will never be finished."

Friedrich smiled, transfigured with happiness, and said: "No, dear
master, you will allow me to finish my masterpiece, and then I will go
back to my smelting-furnace. For I should enjoy finishing my cask, as
my last piece of coopering-work."

"So let it be then, my dear, good son," cried Master Martin, with eyes
sparkling with joy. "Finish your masterpiece, and then, for the
wedding!"

Friedrich kept his word. He duly finished his two-fudder cask, and all
the masters averred that it would be hard to meet with a prettier piece
of work; at which Master Martin was highly delig