nd in the intervals sleep
with his head resting on his arms, seemed the most tempting prospect.
But he was obliged to return to the Eysvogels. There was too much at
stake. Besides, he longed to see the twins who resembled him so closely,
and of whom Countess Cordula had said that she hoped they would not be
like their father.

CHAPTER XV.

The city gates were already open. Peasants and peasant women bringing
vegetables and other farm produce to market thronged the streets, wains
loaded with grain or charcoal rumbled along, and herds of cattle and
swine, laden donkeys, the little carts of the farmers and bee keepers
conveying milk and honey to the city, passed over the dyke, which was
still softened by the rain of the preceding night.

The thunderstorm had cooled the air, but the rays of the morning sun
were already scorching. A few heavy little clouds were darkly relieved
against the blue sky, and a peasant, driving two sucking pigs before
him, called to another, who was carrying a goose under each arm, that
the sun was drawing water, and thundershowers seldom came singly.

Yet the city looked pleasant enough in the freshness of early June. The
maidservants who were opening the shutters glanced gaily out into the
streets, and arranged the flowers in front of the windows or bowed
reverently as a priest passed by on his way to mass. The barefooted
Capuchin, with his long beard, beckoned to the cook or the tradesman's
wife and, as she put something into his beggar's sack and he thanked
her kindly with some pious axiom, she felt as if she herself and all her
household had gained a right to the blessing of Heaven for that day, and
cheerily continued her work.

The brass counter in the low, broad bow window of the baker's house
glittered brightly, and the pale apprentice wiped the flour from his
face and gave his master's rosy-cheeked daughter fresh warm cakes to set
on the shining shelves. The barber's nimble apprentice hung the towel
and basin at the door, while his master, wearied by the wine-bibbing
and talk at the tavern or his labour at the fire, was still asleep. His
active wife had risen before him, strewed the shop with fresh sand, and
renewed the goldfinch's food.

The workshops and stores were adorned with birch branches, and the
young daughters of the burghers, in becoming caps, the maid servants and
apprentices, who were going to market with baskets on their arms, wore a
flower or something green on