eter did not dispute this, but maintained that, in all the
world, there was no one so good as Irmgard.

Rapid rivulets crossed their path in many places, and the little
pitchman told Gunther of the storm of the previous night; how terrible
it is when, all of a sudden, the air seems filled with stones that
pound away at one, and how he had helped the blind man, and also what
had been promised him. He would often take hold of the mule's bridle
and guide it down some steep descent, through a brook and then up the
hill again.

"You must have gone through a good deal yourself, Doctor," said the
little pitchman. He would have liked his companion to entertain him by
the way. He thought that one sitting on the mule could talk far more
comfortably than he who was walking by his side. He could feel it in
his chest that to talk while going up hill, was no easy matter. As if
divining this, Gunther alighted when they reached a level place, and
made the little pitchman mount. After much persuasion, Uncle Peter at
last consented and got up; but as soon as they began to ascend again,
he dismounted, and insisted on Gunther's riding.

"If our Irmgard wants to leave us now," said the little pitchman, "I'd
willingly give her up to you, Doctor. She can play the zither
splendidly, and when she's well again, you can teach her anything.
Everything comes easy to her. But I hope she'll stay with us. She's shy
and doesn't like to go among people."

It seemed as if he had divined Gunther's very thoughts, for the doctor
had been asking himself how he could take Irma to his house, and yet
keep the court ignorant of her existence. In his mind's eye, he already
saw her sitting beside his wife and Cornelia, and he felt that he had
gained a daughter who would fill Paula's place.

It was dark in the forest and the stars were gleaming overhead. "It's
past midnight," said the little pitchman, when they reached the crest
of a projecting hill. "The moon's coming up over there."

Gunther looked back and saw the half-moon rising and looking like a
ruin suspended in the vast firmament.

"There's some of our cows already," said the little pitchman, and his
voice grew brighter. "That's Blackbird, with the ding-dong bell. She
always strays furthest of all; but we'll be home in less than half an
hour, at any rate."

They went on in silence, and at last reached the hut. A ray of light
shone through the opening in the closed window-shutter.

Gunther entere