n the line;
and a few minutes after was kneeling by Ulrich's side. He shook and
jerked him, but in vain; then growing anxious, called to the others that
the boy was probably dead.

"People never die so quickly!" cried the greyhaired leader of the band:
"Give him a blow."

The youth raised his arm, but did not strike the lad. He had looked into
Ulrich's face, and found something there that touched his heart. "No,
no," he shouted, "come up here, Peter; a handsome boy; but it's all over
with him, I say."

During this delay, the traveller whom the men were escorting, and his old
servant, approached the cemetery at a rapid trot. The former, a gentleman
of middle age, protected from the cold by costly furs, saw with a single
hasty glance the cause of the detention.

Instantly dismounting, he followed the leader of the troop to the end of
the wall, where there was a flight of rude steps.

Ulrich's head now lay in the soldier's arms, and the traveller gazed at
him with a look of deep sympathy. The steadfast glance of his bright eyes
rested on the boy's features as if spellbound, then he raised his hand,
beckoned to the elder soldier, and exclaimed: "Lift him; we'll take him
with us; a corner can be found in the wagon."

The vehicle, of which the traveller spoke, was slow in coming. It was a
long four-wheeled equipage, over which, as a protection against wind and
storm, arched a round, sail-cloth cover. The driver crouched among the
straw in a basket behind the horses, like a brooding hen.

Under the sheltering canopy, among the luggage of the fur-clad gentleman,
sat and reclined four travellers, whom the owner of the vehicle had
gradually picked up, and who formed a motley company.

The two Dominican friars, Magisters Sutor and Stubenrauch, had entered at
Cologne, for the wagon came straight from Holland, and belonged to the
artist Antonio Moor of Utrecht, who was going to King Philip's court. The
beautiful fur border on the black cap and velvet cloak showed that he had
no occasion to practise economy; he preferred the back of a good horse to
a seat in a jolting vehicle.

The ecclesiastics had taken possession of the best places in the back of
the wagon. They were inseparable brothers, and formed as it were one
person, for they behaved like two bodies with one soul. In this double
life, fat Magister Sutor represented the will, lean Stubenrauch
reflection and execution. If the former proposed to be down or sit, eat
or