at the battle of
Marchfield by his rare bravery, and that the young hero would remain in
Nuremberg only until his severe injuries were completely healed. His
departure would bring to her separation from his servant, and sometimes
when homesickness tortured her she thought she would be unable to survive
the parting. Meanwhile Biberli nursed his master with faithful zeal, as
if nothing bound him to Nuremberg, and even after his departure Katterle
remained in good health.

Now she had him again. Directly after the Emperor Rudolph's entrance,
five days before, Biberli had come openly to the Ortlieb house and
presented himself to Martsche,--[Margaret]--the old house keeper, as the
countryman and friend of the waiting maid, who had brought her a message
from home.

True, it had been impossible to say anything confidential either in the
crowded kitchen or in the servants' hall. To-night's meeting was to
afford the opportunity.

The menservants, carrying sedan chairs and torches, had all gone out with
their master, who had taken his younger daughter, Eva, to the dance. They
were to wait in front of the Town Hall, because it was doubtful whether
the daughter of the house, who had been very reluctant to go to the
entertainment, might not urge an early departure. Count von Montfort,
whose quarters were in the Ortlieb mansion, and his whole train of male
attendants, certainly would not come back till very late at night or even
early morning, for the Countess Cordula remained at a ball till the
close, and her father lingered over the wine cup till his daughter called
him from the revellers.

All this warranted the lovers in hoping for an undisturbed interview. The
place of meeting was well chosen. It was unsatisfactory only to the moon
for, after Biberli had closed the heavy door of the house behind him,
Luna found no chink or crevice through which a gliding ray might have
watched what the true and steadfast Biberli was saying to Katterle. There
was one little window beside the door, but it was closed, and the opening
was covered with sheepskin. So the moon's curiosity was not gratified.

Instead of her silver rays, the long entry of the Ortlieb house, with its
lofty ceiling, was illumined only by the light of three lanterns, which
struggled dimly through horn panes. The shining dots in a dark corner of
the spacious corridor were the eyes of a black cat, watching there for
rats and mice.

The spot really possessed many advan