son who ever caused her
embarrassment, even though temporary. There was always a whimsical smile
on his lips and in his eyes, and Fraeu Bauer never knew exactly how to
take him. "What is on your mind?" brightly.

"Many things. You haven't aged the least since last I saw you."

"Which was day before yesterday!"

"Not any further back than that?"

"Not an hour."

She turned to make change, while Carmichael's eyes roved in search of a
vacant chair. He saw but one.

"The goose-girl?" he murmured suddenly. "Is Gretchen one of your
waitresses?"

"She comes in once in a while. She's a good girl and I'm glad to help
her," Fraeu Bauer replied.

"I do not recollect having seen her here before."

"That is because you rarely come at night."

Gretchen carried a tray upon which steamed a vegetable stew. She saw
Carmichael and nodded.

"I shall be at yonder table," he said indicating the vacant chair. "Will
you bring me a tankard of brown Ehrensteiner?"

"At once, Herr."

Carmichael made his way to the table. Across the room he had not
recognized the vintner, but now he remembered. He had crowded him
against a wall two or three days before.

"This seat is not reserved, Herr?" he asked pleasantly, with his hand on
the back of the chair.

"No." There was no cordiality in the answer. The vintner turned back the
lid of his stein and drank slowly.

Carmichael sat down sidewise, viewing the scene with never-waning
interest. These German taverns were the delight of his soul. Everybody
was so kindly and orderly and hungry. They ate and drank like persons
whose consciences were not overburdened. From the corner of his eye he
observed that the vintner was studying him. Now this vintner's face was
something familiar. Carmichael stirred his memory. It was not in
Dreiberg that he had seen him before. But where?

Gretchen arrived with the tankard which she sat down at Carmichael's
elbow.

"Will you not join me, Herr?" he invited.

"Thank you," said the vintner, without hesitation.

He smiled at Gretchen and she smiled at him. Carmichael smiled at them
both tolerantly.

"What will you be drinking?"

"Brown," said the vintner.

Gretchen took up the empty tankard and made off. The eyes of the two men
followed her till she reached the dim bar, then their glances swung
round and met. Carmichael was first to speak, not because he was forced
to, but because it was his fancy at that moment to give the vintner the
best of it