and insisted upon binding the wound herself of
which she had been the cause. Slowly he offered his hand. Not seeing
the handkerchief which her maid offered, the Fraeulein took her own,
binding it with the ribbon of the bow she wore on her own bosom. As
she let go his hand Axel fancied that he felt a gentle pressure, but
before he had time to think of this happy moment in which he saw a
symbol of his future happiness, the lovely girl had fled like a
frightened roe. As if in a dream he slowly pursued his way to the
castle, where Talander received him at the gate, being commissioned
from the Fraeulein, and ready for every emergency, took out his case of
surgical instruments to dress his wound in due form. While doing this
the old man said, "You have a fine hand, almost too delicately formed
for your station; I suppose you have also seen military service, these
hard parts show that you have frequently handled the sword."

"Ah, true," stammered the patient, embarrassed.

"You seem altogether a strange customer," continued Talander "and I am
somewhat curious to know more of you. Pray just show me the palm of
your hand."

"Never mind such fooleries, magister," said Axel, withdrawing his hand.

"Only ignorance judges hastily of what it does not understand," said
the magister, angrily. "How can you thus with contempt reject that
noble chiromancy to which I have devoted myself for nearly a
generation." Forcibly seizing the wounded hand he examined it long and
closely, then said, muttering, "Well, these lines indicate that you
were born for something superior to a stable. This line may be truly
called the _cingulum veneris_, it promises success in love; and here
are fame and honour and high dignities. Ah, ah, friend, you are not
what you appear."

"Your crotchets deceive you in a singular manner," said Axel,
embarrassed, and wishing to escape.

"The old Talander is no woman," said the magister, "and therefore has
no crotchets, and has never deceived himself yet." And, retaining his
hold of Axel, he added, "I tell you plainly you are no groom, and if
you were not a good evangelical Christian, and had not a pair of clear
faithful eyes, through which one may imagine that one can look into
your very heart, I should say you had some wicked design, and I should
communicate my suspicions to the baron."

"By heavens and my honour," cried Axel, warmly, "my intentions are
pure."

"A groom may indeed be an honest man," s