e upon your miserable oaths!" Eva interrupted reprovingly. "Do you
know also that the tall, stately gentleman with the long grey hair----"

"That was the Emperor Rudolph!" cried Ortel, sure he was right. "Whoever
has once seen him does not forget him. Everything on earth belongs to
him; but when the knight took our flowers so freely just now as if they
were his own, I thought But there--there--there! See for yourself,
Jungfrau! A heavy, unclipped yellow zecchin!"

As he spoke he took the coin in his hand, crossed himself, and added
thoughtfully: "The little silver coin, or whatever he flung in
here--perhaps to pay for the flowers, which are not worth five
shillings--has been changed into pure gold by the saint who wrought the
miracle for him. My soul! If many in Nuremberg paid so high for forage,
the rich Eysvogel would leave the Council and go in search of wild
flowers!"

Eva begged the man to leave the zecchin, promising to give him another at
home and half a pound in coppers as earnest money. "This is what I call a
lucky morning!" cried Ortel. But directly after he changed his tone,
remembering Eva's white mourning robe and the object of their expedition,
and his fresh voice sounded very sympathetic as he added: "If one could
only call your lady mother back to life! Ah, me! I'd spend all my savings
to buy for the saints as many candles as my mother has in her little
shop, if that would change things."

Whilst speaking he filled the basket with flowers, and the nun helped
him. Eva walked before them with bowed head.

Could she hope to wed the man for whom Heaven had performed such a
miracle? Was it no sin to hope and plead that he would wear their common
colour, not in honour of the Queen of Heaven, but of the lowly Eva, in
whom nothing was strong save the desire for good? Was not Heinz forcing
her to enter into rivalry with one the most distant comparison with whom
meant defeat? Yet, no! Her gracious Friend above knew her and her heart.
She knew with what tender love and reverence she had looked up to her
from childhood, and she now confided the love in her heart to her who had
shown herself gracious a thousand times when she raised her soul to her
in prayer.

Eva was breathing heavily when she emerged from the forest and stopped to
wait until Sister Perpetua had finished her prayer in the chapel and
overtook her. Her heart was heavy, and when, in the meadow beyond the
woods, the heat of the sun, which was alre