t had not yet delivered it to
his royal master, and promised to withhold it for a time.

Rejoicing over this success, Herr Pfinzing accompanied Fran Christine,
who wanted to visit Els, to the Eysvogel residence.

The din of many voices and loud laughter greeted them from the spacious
entry. Three mendicant friars, with overflowing pouches, pressed
past them, and two others were still standing with the men and the
maidservants assembled in the light of the lanterns. They had filled the
barefooted monks' bags, for the salvation of their own souls, with the
provisions of the house, and were talking garrulously, already half
intoxicated by the jugs of wine which the butler willingly filled to
earn a sweet reward from the young maids, who eagerly sought the favour
of the rotund bachelor whose hair was just beginning to turn grey.

The magistrate's entrance startled them, and the butler vainly strove
to hide a large jar whose shape betrayed that it came from Sicily and
contained the noble vintage of Syracuse. Two of the maids slid under
their aprons the big hams and pieces of roast meat with which they had
already begun to regale themselves.

Herr Berthold, smiling sadly, watched the conduct of the masterless
servants; then raising his cap, bowed with the utmost respect to the
disconcerted revellers, and said courteously, "I hope it will agree with
you all."

The startled group looked sheepishly at one another. The butler was
the only person who quickly regained his composure, came forward to
the magistrate cap in hand, and said obsequiously that he and his
fellow-servants were in evil case. The house had no master. No one
knew from whom he or she was to receive orders. Most of them had been
discharged by the Honourable Councillor, but no one knew when he was to
leave or whom to ask for his wages.

The magistrate then informed them that Herr Wolff Eysvogel had the right
to give orders, and during his absence his betrothed bride, Jungfrau
Els Ortlieb. The next morning a member of the Council would examine the
claims of each, pay the wages, and with Frau Rosalinde and Jungfrau Els
determine the other matters.

The butler had imbibed a goodly share of the noble wine. His fat cheeks
glowed, and at the magistrate's last remark he laughed softly: "If we
wait for the folk upstairs to agree we shall stay here till the Pegnitz
flows up the valley. Just listen to their state of harmony, sir!"

In fact the shrill, angry accents