r expedient than to change the coat of mail
for the monk's cowl, reminded her of similar incidents among her own
acquaintances. The man was right in his assertion that most of them had
been directed to the monastery by monks of the Order of St. Francis,
since the name of the Saint of Assisi and the miracles he performed had
become known in this country also. Whoever believed it impossible to see
the gay Sir Heinz in a monk's cowl, added the experienced fellow, might
find himself mistaken.

He had intentionally kept silence concerning Sir Seitz Siebenburg's
challenge and his master's other dealings with the "Mustache." On the
other hand, he had eagerly striven to inform Els of the minutest details
of the reception he met with from her betrothed lover. With what zealous
warmth he related that Wolff, like the upright man he was, had rejected
even the faintest shadow of doubt of her steadfastness and truth, which
were his own principal virtues also.

Even before Sir Heinz Schorlin's visit young Herr Eysvogel had known what
to think of the calumnies which, it is true, were repeated to him. His
calm, unclouded courage and clear mind were probably best shown by the
numerous sheets of paper he had covered with estimates, all relating to
the condition of the Eysvogel business. He had confided these documents
also to him to be delivered to his father, and after discharging this
duty he had come to her. According to his custom, he had reserved the
best thing for the last, but it was now time to give it to her.

As he spoke he drew from the breast pocket of his long coat a
wrought-iron rose. Els knew it well; it had adorned the clasp of her
lover's belt, and the unusual delicacy of the workmanship had often
aroused her admiration. What the gift was to announce she read on the
paper accompanying it, which contained the following simple lines:

"The iron rude, when shaped by fire and blows,
Delights our eyes as a most beauteous rose.
So may the lies which strove to work us ill
But serve our hearts with greater love to fill."

Biberli withdrew as soon as he had delivered the gift; his master was
awaiting him on his return from his early ride with the Emperor; but Els,
with glowing cheeks, read and reread the verse which brought such
cheering consolation from her lover. It seemed like a miracle that they
recalled the words of her dying mother concerning the forge fire which,
in her last moments, she had mention