e stirrups, and
rode off at such a pace that the horse was soon covered with foam and
quite submissive; then he rode back to Roland, who was waiting for him
in anxiety.

"Why did you throw off the stirrups?" he asked.

"Because I didn't want to hang by them if the horse fell backwards."

They rode on quietly near each other. Eric asked:--

"Which do you like best, to have some fixed object for your ride, or
simply to go over a certain distance, and then turn back?"

Roland looked puzzled.

"Didn't you understand my question?"

"Yes, perfectly."

"And what do you think?"

"I like to have some object, a visit to pay, at the end of my ride."

"I thought you would say so."

"Only think," said Roland, "they say I must have another tutor."

"Indeed."

"But I won't."

"What do you want?"

"I want to get away from home and go to a military school! Why should
Manna go to the convent? They always say that my mother can't eat
unless I am with her, but she'll have to eat when I'm an officer."

"Then you want to be an officer?"

"Yes, what else should I be?"

Eric was silent.

"Are you a nobleman?" asked the boy, after a pause.

"No."

"Shouldn't you like to become one?"

"We cannot make ourselves noblemen."

The boy played with his horse's long mane; glancing back, he saw that
the flag had been lowered from the tower. He pointed it out to Eric,
saying haughtily that he should hoist it again. His fine, delicately
cut, but pale face gained strength and color as it lost its weary look,
and assumed a daring expression.

Without noticing his domineering manner, Eric said how much he liked
Roland's pride in being an American.

"You are the first person in Germany who has commended it," cried the
boy joyfully. "Herr von Pranken and Fraeulein Perini are always
ridiculing America; you are the only man,--but I beg your pardon, I
ought not to be talking so familiarly to you."

"Put away that notion; we want to be good friends."

The boy held out his hand, and Eric pressed it warmly.

"See, our horses are good friends too," said Roland. "Have you many
horses at home?"

"No, not any; I am poor."

"Wouldn't you like to be rich?"

"Certainly, wealth is a great power."

Roland looked at him in surprise; none of his tutors had said that to
him; they had all represented wealth as a temptation and a vanity, or
had extolled it for the sake of flattering him.

After some time, in which the boy was evidently