ve a married bailiff. And then a
little more time passed, and it was too late. Young Joseph made her an
offer, and your mother begged her so hard to take him, that she
consented. Ah well, that marriage ought never to have been," and Braesig
looked down gravely. After a moment's silence he went on--"When I saw
the twins I felt drawn to them, and thought that they might have been my
own, and I almost wished that the old woman, old Joseph, and young
Joseph were in their graves. It was indeed a happy day for the old
Jesuits when your sister brought her loving heart and cheerful nature
into their house, if it had been any one else there would have been
murder done long ago."

While they were talking they had left the village behind them, and were
now beside the large garden. Suddenly Hawermann exclaimed: "Look there,
the two old people are on the top of the hill yonder." "Yes," said
Braesig with a derisive chuckle, "there they are, the hypocritical old
Jesuits, standing in their hiding-place." "Hiding-place?" asked
Hawermann, astonished. "Up there on the hill?" "Even so, Charles, the
old creatures can trust no one, not even their own children, and when
they want to say anything to each other that they can't explain by their
usual signs, they always go to the very top of the hill where they can
see that there are no eavesdroppers, and shout their secrets in one
another's ears. Look at them cackling away, the old woman has laid
another dragon's egg, and now they're both going to hatch it." "How
eagerly they're talking," said Hawermann. "Do you see how the old woman
is gesticulating? What can it all be about?" "I know what they are
laying down the law about, for I know them well. And Charles," he
continued after a short silence, "it is better that you should
understand the whole state of the case at once, and then you'll know how
to act."

"They're talking about you, and your little girl." "About me, and my
little girl!" repeated Hawermann in astonishment. "Yes, Charles--don't
you see. If you had come with a great purse full of money, they would
have received you with open arms, for money is the only thing for which
they have the slightest respect; but as it is they regard you and the
child in the light of beggarly poor relations who will take the very
bread out of the mouth of their unfortunate son." "Oh!" sighed
Hawermann, "why didn't I leave the child with the Rassows? Who is to
take care of her? Can you advise me what to