mistress of the house, but
for several years the lamentations and anxiety concerning her had been
ceaseless. The young prince's death had startled rather than saddened
them. They did not know him, but it was terrible to die so young and
so suddenly. They would not have listened to a merry tale which stirred
them to laughter, but Biberli's stories of distant lands, of the court,
of war, of the tournament, just suited their present mood, and the
narrator was well pleased to find ready listeners. He had so many things
to forget, and he never succeeded better than when permitted to use his
tongue freely. He wagged it valiantly, too, but when the thunderstorm
burst he paused and went to the window. His narrow face was blanched,
and his agile limbs moved restlessly. Suddenly remarking, "My master
will need me," he held out his hand to Katterle in farewell. But as the
zigzag flash of lightning had just been followed by the peal of thunder,
she clung to him, earnestly beseeching him not to leave her. He yielded,
but went out to learn whether Herr Casper was still in the office, and
in a short time returned, exclaiming angrily: "The old Eysvogel seems to
be building his nest here!"

Then, to the vexation of the clumsy old cook, whom he interrupted by his
restless movements in the Paternosters she was repeating on her rosary,
he began to stride up and down before the hearth.

His light heart had rarely been so heavy. He could not keep his thoughts
from his master, and felt sure that Heinz needed him; that he, Biberli,
would have cause to regret not being with him at this moment. Had the
storm destroyed the Ortlieb mansion he would have considered it only
natural; and as he glanced around the kitchen in search of Katterle,
who, like most of the others, was on her knees with her rosary in her
hand, old Martsche rushed in, hurried up to the cook, shook her as if to
rouse her from sleep, and exclaimed: "Hot water for the blood-letting!
Quick! Our mistress--she'll slip through our hands."

As she spoke, the young kitchen maid Metz helped the clumsy woman up,
and Biberli also lent his aid.

Just as the jug was filled, Els, too, hastened in, snatched it from the
hand of Martsche, whose old feet were too slow for her, and hurried with
it into the entry and up the stairs, passing her father, to whom she had
called on the way down.

Casper Eysvogel stood at the bottom of the steps, and called after her
that it would not be his fault,