ked a
well-known face, that greeted Althea with respect, and amongst them she
recognised Tausdorf.

"How! you here, Tausdorf?" she cried, with a vivacity that confounded
her own self.

"That surprises you, does it not?" exclaimed Netz. "Troth, when he so
bluntly refused to join us in fetching the bay, I had no idea that he
would enter upon such an adventure as the present one. But he offered
himself of his own accord, which indeed has made me wonder not a
little."

"In that there is nothing for wonder," said Tausdorf, gravely. "I have
always remained the same. With justice I refused to take part in an
action which I deemed illegal; but I hold it for my knightly duty to be
in the saddle when it is to defend the authorities of the land, and
support them in their sacred office against factions and those who
would take the law into their own hands."

"Let that be, my worthy countryman," said Netz; "we'll not dispute
about our principles. It is enough for me that we have got you, that
you belong to us, and hold the pedlers in the wrong."

"Not so unconditionally as you imagine. The evil originated with the
nobles. Whether upon this the citizens too did not go beyond their
bounds, that must be inquired into by the palatine, and punished
accordingly. We nobles are a party in the matter, and have therefore no
voice in the decision."

"In the name of Heaven, Tausdorf, whence have you borrowed this
lamb-like patience? Did not the rascals wish to fling you into jail,
though you were more innocent of the whole transaction than a new-born
babe? Did they not seize your bridle, and try to pull you from your
horse?"

"That was long ago forgiven and forgotten."

"Eh! What! The hounds must not venture to fall upon a knight! The
bishop must obtain for you a brilliant satisfaction."

"Satisfaction to the law, not to me. The bishop has disputes of higher
import to settle, and I should be ashamed to trouble him with this
trifle."

"You are a brave knight!" exclaimed the old Schindel, who had been
sent to them by Althea, and, having entered unnoticed, had overheard
the conversation--"Happy were our principality if all these gentlemen
were like you! Then again might grow and flourish the tender olive-tree
of civil peace, which the hand of Maximilian so lovingly planted, but
at which both the nobles and citizens are pulling and dragging with
equal violence, so that in the end it is likely to perish, to the grief
of all those who