mewhat about here," exclaimed Hansei,
with joyous voice.

Walpurga gave an evasive answer. She told Hansei that she thought it a
stupid piece of business for the innkeeper to make a festival of her
return, but that she wouldn't put foot in the Chamois for all his
music.

Hansei had not thought so ill of the projected entertainment; on the
contrary, he had found pleasure in the idea of sitting in the midst of
the crowd, with his wife by his side and all the people frisking about
him. That was more than Grubersepp, with all his money, could get. It
was not without a struggle, that he, at last, said: "Just as you
please; you ought to know best whether it's proper for you."

As soon as the afternoon service was over, crowds, on their way to the
Chamois, were seen hurrying through the village in carriages, on
horseback, or afoot. The sound of the music could be heard from afar,
and the tones of tailor Schneck's bass viol were heard over all.

"If I could only hide myself from them," said Walpurga.

"That's easily done," said Hansei, triumphantly, "that's all right. Let
us go off together, by ourselves."

He went out through the back door and into the back garden and loosened
the boat from the spile. While the chain rattled over its side,
Walpurga laid her hand on her heart and said:

"You've loosened a chain from my heart."

They got into the boat and pushed oft, and, like an arrow, the slender
bark shot out over the smooth water of the lake.

"The pastor meant to come," said Walpurga, when they had gone some
distance.

"He can come some other time; he won't run away," thought Hansei.
"We're rowing together, just as we did when we were betrothed."

Walpurga also seized the oars. She and Hansei sat face to face. The
four oars rose and fell as if it were a single hand that plied them.
Neither spoke a word; there was nothing to be said. The happy glances
they bestowed on each other were full of eloquence, and the equal
stroke of the oars told the whole story.

When they reached the middle of the lake, they heard loud music from
the shore, and, looking back, saw a great crowd, accompanied by the
band, in front of their house.

"Thank God! We've escaped that," said Hansei.

They rowed on, further and further, and went ashore on the opposite
bank where, holding each other by the hand, they walked up the hill.
They soon reached a bluff, where they rested for awhile. At last,
Hansei said:

"Walpurga, it seems to