my light, as Helios was that of the Greeks,
though there were the moon and so many planets and stars besides."

"And the vagrant we saw just now, on whom you bestowed a golden shower
of remembrance as Father Zeus endowed the fair Danae?" asked Doctor
Peutinger of Augsburg, shaking his finger mischievously at his young
friend. "We humanists follow the saying of Tibullus: 'Whoever confesses
let him be forgiven,' and know the world sufficiently to be aware
that within the walls of Ilium and without enormities are
committed."--[Horace, Epist. 1, 2, 16.]

"A true statement," replied Lienhard. "It probably applies to me as much
as to the young girl, but there was really nothing between us which
bore the most distant resemblance to a love intrigue. As a magistrate,
I acquitted her of a trivial misdemeanour which she committed while my
wedding procession was on its way to the altar. I did this because I was
unwilling to have that happy hour become a source of pain to any one. In
return, she grew deeply attached to me, who can tell whether from mere
gratitude, or because a warmer feeling stirred her strange heart? At
that time she was certainly a pretty, dainty creature, and yet, as truly
as I hope to enjoy the love of my darling wife for many a year,
there was nothing, absolutely nothing, between me and the blue-eyed,
dark-haired wanderer which the confessor might not have witnessed.
I myself wonder at this, because I by no means failed to see the
ropedancer's peculiar changeful charms, and the tempter pointed them
out to me zealously enough. Besides, she has no ordinary nature. She
had accomplished really marvellous feats in her art, until at Augsburg,
during the Reichstag, when in the Emperor's presence, she risked the
most daring ventures--"

"Could it be the same person who, before our poor Juliane's eyes, had
the awful fall which frightened the child so terribly?" asked Doctor
Peutinger earnestly.

"The very same," replied Lienhard in a tone of sincere pity; but the
Augsburg doctor continued, sighing:

"With that sudden fright, which thrilled her sensitive nature to its
inmost depths, began the illness of the angel whose rich, loving heart
throbbed so tenderly for you also, Herr Lienhard."

"As mine did for the peerless child," replied the young Councillor with
eager warmth. "While Juliane, who sickened at the sight of the girl
dancing on the edge of the grave, was pointing out to me some pages in
the manuscript of