I thought afterwards
that it would have been better to have spoken about it to you first."

"Yes," said Mr. George, "that would be much the best mode generally,
though in this case it makes no difference, for I shall be very glad to
have Minnie go."

So Rollo immediately after breakfast went to renew his invitation to
Minnie, and about an hour afterwards the party set out on their
excursion. They went in a fine open barouche with two horses, which Mr.
George selected from several that were standing near the hotel, waiting
to be hired. Mr. George took the back seat, and Rollo and Minnie sat
together on the front seat. Thus they rode through the streets of the
town, and over the old stone bridge which led across the Nahe near its
junction with the Rhine.

From the bridge Rollo could see the little green island on which stood
Bishop Hatto's Tower.

"There is Bishop Hatto's Tower," said Rollo, "and you promised, uncle
George, to tell me the story of it."

"Well," said Mr. George, "I will tell it to you now."

So Mr. George began to relate the story as follows:--

"There was a famine coming on at one time during Bishop Hatto's life,
and the people were becoming very destitute, though the bishop's
granaries were well supplied with corn. The poor flocked and crowded
around his door. At last the bishop appointed a time when, he told them,
they should have food for the winter, if they would repair to his great
barn. Young and old, from far and near, did so, and when the barn could
hold no more, he made fast the door, and set fire to it, and burned them
all. He then returned to his palace, congratulating himself that the
country was rid of the 'rats,' as he called them. He ate a good supper,
went to bed, and slept like an innocent man; but he never slept again.
In the morning, when he entered a room where hung his picture, he found
it entirely eaten by rats. Presently a man came and told him that the
rats had entirely consumed his corn; and while the man was telling him
this, another man came running, pale as death, to tell him that ten
thousand rats were coming. 'I'll go to my tower on the Rhine,' said the
bishop; ''tis the safest place in Germany.' He immediately hastened to
the shore, and crossed to his tower, and very carefully barred all the
doors and windows. After he had retired for the night, he had hardly
closed his eyes, when he heard a fearful scream. He started up, and saw
the cat sitting by his pillow, scream