ch afraid; so I thought I would ask whether I might come in to court
with her."

"No," was the rude answer; and the door was slammed in his face so
heavily that he staggered some steps backward. He had no opportunity of
advancing his other argument,--that in strictness he ought to appear
before court and not Eva, as the house before which the May-pole was
belonged to him.

With both hands folded upon his hawthorn stick, and his chin resting
upon his hands, Michael the wagoner sat beside his daughter in the
entry, and looked at the stone floor, which seemed almost as void of
sympathy as the face of the official. "If Buchmaier was at home," he
muttered, "they would strike up another tune." Eva could not speak a
word: she only coughed once or twice into her neatly-ironed
handkerchief.

Summoned at last, she rose quickly. Neither spoke, but, after a mute,
parting look, Eva disappeared behind the door. At the door she stood
still: the judge was not there, but the clerk sat playing with his pen,
while the two "assessors" whispered softly to each other. Eva shook and
trembled in every limb: the silence lasted ten minutes, which, to the
poor girl, seemed half an eternity. At last the clink of spurs
announced the judge's arrival. Eva seemed to find favor in his eyes,
for he tucked her chin, stroked her burning cheeks, and said, "Sit
down." Eva obeyed, just seating herself on the very edge of the stool.
After going through the customary catechism of name, station, age, and
so on, the judge asked,--

"Well, who put up your May-polo?"

"How can I know, your honor?"

"Didn't you drop the rope out of the dormer-window to tie it with?"

"No, your honor."

"And don't you know who is your sweetheart?"

Eva began to weep aloud. It was dreadful to deny; and yet she could not
confess it. In America such a question would have had no other result
than a reprimand from the bench to the counsel putting it. But so
defenceless is the condition of parties and witnesses where justice
hides in corners, that the judge even went further, and said,--

"It's no use to deny it: Mat is your sweetheart, and you're going to
get married very soon."

Eva remembered that four weeks later they intended to ask that same
court for permission to get married,--an indispensable formula under
the code of that happy country. If she denied it now, she thought they
would refuse to give her the "papers" and the "acceptance," and,
besides, it was against h