He shook hands again with Leonhard, who said, "I will think about what
you have said: I like the sound of it."

"There will be no end of work here for a skillful man of your business
if the land is sold in lots. I have had a great many applications. I
don't know of any such building-sites anywhere. My house will have to
be over there on the slope, I think--a sort of guard to the valley and
an assurance to Spenersbergers."

He now went away, looking back and nodding at Leonhard, confident that
they understood each other.

"There's a man to envy!" thought our explorer; and he felt as if a
strong staff had been wrenched out of his hand.

But the thoughts with which Albert Spener strode toward the station, a
mile away, were not enviable thoughts. For a little while he went on
thinking about Leonhard with great satisfaction, and he made many plans
based on ground-lines traced for his new acquaintance; but as he went
his way he passed first Mr. Wenck's small abode, and farther on the
house where Elise lived, and his indignation was not lessened when he
thought how trivial was the part he had allowed himself to act in the
play which might end as a tragedy if Elise should prove obstinate.

CHAPTER XI.

LORETZ ON THE TROMBONE.

Later in the afternoon, toward sunset, Leonhard left the gardens and
walked slowly down the street, taking cognizance of all things in his
way. He noticed that Taste had taken Haste in hand in many a place, and
that already attempts were evident to repair and amend or construct
anew. What might not be done toward making a paradise of such a place
under the encouragement of a man like Albert Spener? But a probationer!
That meant, Say that you will present yourself to Moravian brethren as a
candidate for admission to their fellowship. He smiled at the thought,
but when he considered the opportunities of work Spener would put in his
way, he began to look grave. Of course he must give up his music: it was
no profession for him, and he saw that it was folly and weakness to
attempt the service of two masters; and yet he will go back and talk
with Mrs. Anna about Herrnhut and old Leonhard Marten. Just here comes
the sound of a trombone cleaving the air.

It startles him, and it startles others also. "Who is gone?" he hears
one man ask another from his place in the garden; and he understands
that the trombone has made an announcement to the people of Spenersberg.
How the notes wind along, a noble st