sitated a long time, for he perfectly understood the
impropriety of such a mode of proof; but the desire to set an example
prevailed.

The hearing ended by drawing up the minutes, and requiring Mat, as well
as Soges and the customary two "assessors," or, as they are vulgarly
called, "by-sleepers," to sign them. Mat had not the courage to repeat
his demand about the abusive words of the judge, but suffered himself
to be led back quietly to prison.

When it grew dusk, Eva might have been seen sitting on the stile at the
end of the village and looking over toward the tower, thinking that Mat
must surely come before long. She sat behind a hedge, to avoid being
seen and questioned by the passers-by. There she saw Soges coming up
the hillside. As she walked toward the road, Soges beckoned to her;
and, hoping to hear news from Mat, she ran to him in all haste.

"Not too fast, Eva," cried Soges; "I only wished to tell you that you
must come to court to-morrow: you've saved me a walk."

Eva turned ashy pale, and looked almost beside herself; then she ran
down the hill, and did not stop till she had come to the Neckar. She
looked around in amazement, for it had seemed to her that she was to be
locked up at once with no hope of escape but by running away. She went
home, weeping silently.

Eva hardly closed her eyes all night for thinking of the chambers hung
in black, and the skull and bones with which her imagination garnished
the thought of courts and judges. If her playmate Agatha, the tailor's
daughter, had not come to sleep with her, she would have died of fear.
At the first dawn of morning she went to the press and took out her
Sunday gear. Agatha had to dress her, for she trembled so much that she
could not tie a string. She looked at herself sadly in her broken
glass. It seemed as if she were forced to go to a funeral in holiday
garb.

Michael the wagoner accompanied his daughter, for it would not do to
let the child go alone. In the court-house he took off his hat, stroked
his short hair, and drew his face into an expression of smiling
humility as he stood, scraping the floor with his feet, before the
unopened door. He rested his hawthorn stick against the wall, took off
his three-cornered hat, pressed it to his breast with his left hand,
bent his head humbly, and knocked at the door. It opened. "What do you
want?" inquired a gruff voice.

"I am Michael the wagoner, and this is my daughter Eva, and she is very
mu